Green Eyed Girl
by Aceboizor
Summary: Green Trilogy #1. Sam Evans was a home-schooled witch with her ever-travelling parents. But when her father is brutally murdered at the Quidditch World Cup by a masked Death Eater, Sam flees to Hogwarts, only to find that the Death Eater may be there too.
1. Prologue

_Author's Note: This story is rated M for dark topics such as murder and rape. Of course, no copyright infringement was intended in the creation of this story. The world and everything in it belongs to J.K. Rowling save for my own character (Samantha Evans) and her story within the general plot of Harry Potter. Please enjoy!_

* * *

**Prologue**

A cool summer breeze swept past me, bringing with it relief from a sweltering August sun. It shone clearly in the cloudless sky, beating down on my neck as I knelt in the soft grass.

"I leave for Hogwarts in the morning," I said unsteadily. I bowed my head, willing myself to stay strong. _Don't cry,_ I told myself harshly. It took several deep breathes before I could continue. "It's going to be so different. Just like everything else that's happened, I suppose."

I paused to brush my hair away from my eyes. A strand came loose, and I twirled absently it around my finger. The wind rustled through a nearby tree; a wind chime sounded.

"I'll make you proud, Dad," I said, my voice breaking. "Just you watch."

I lifted myself to my feet, my hand trembling as I placed the strand of hair on the stone marker in front of me, its dark copper color standing out against the smooth gray rock that read:

THEODORE EVANS, BELOVED HUSBAND AND FATHER. 1958-1994.


	2. Chapter One: In the Beginnings

**Chapter One: In the Beginnings**

I sat on the Hogwarts Express flipping through a copy of the Quibbler when Luna Lovegood let out a disappointed 'humph.' I peered curiously at her over the top of my magazine.

"What's on your mind, Luna?" I asked. She closed her copy of the Quibbler, which had been upside-down, and set it primly on her lap.

"Just Father and I quarreling over the hierarchy of important matters that ought to be emphasized in the Quibbler," she said airily, already investing her attention in thoroughly examining the students sitting across from us. I couldn't decide whether to frown or laugh, so I decided instead to toss my own Quibbler onto the seat between us.

"I'm sure he had his reasons," I replied, wondering vaguely whether or not Luna even remembered what we were talking about as she was beginning to make the other students squirm uncomfortably in their seats under her wide-eyed inspection.

"Oh, I know he's been busy, what with the Quidditch World Cup taking away most of his work force."

I winced involuntarily, but thankfully Luna didn't seem to notice.

"Father's very fond of you, you know," she said suddenly.

"Er—yeah, I know," I said after a moment. "I really appreciate everything you guys did for us this past week." I knew I certainly had. Mother had never approved of the Lovegoods, but Dad and Luna's father had been best friends since their days at Hogwarts together; it was impossible for Mother to keep them apart, not even after graduation when Dad went to work for the Quibbler.

"Our pleasure," Luna replied, reopening her copy of the Quibbler, only to have it shot out of her hand by an airborne Chocolate Frog.

"Sorry!" cried the boy sitting across from us as his friends cracked up with laughter. The frog took a flying leap, aiming desperately for the open window, but I shot out a hand and snatched it out of the air.

"Whoa, nice catch!" the boy said. "Do you play Quidditch? Those are some wicked reflexes."

"I can play, yeah," I said, handing him his Chocolate Frog as Luna went back to reading her Quibbler as though nothing had happened. I couldn't help but smirk.

"You should try out for your House team, which would be…?" he prompted, glancing at my robes for a clue that wasn't there.

"Don't have one, yet."

He frowned. "You look a little old to be a first year."

I chuckled. "Fourth year, actually. I was home-schooled for my first three years. This'll be my first time at Hogwarts."

"Really? So why are you coming to Hogwarts now, then? Why not just finish it out at home? Not that we don't want you here, or anything," he added with a charming smile.

"My father was teaching me, but he, uh…he died recently." The boy's eyes widened at this. "And my mother's too busy to pick up where he left off," I hurried to add so my voice wouldn't waver, "so we figured sending me to Hogwarts was the best option."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," the boy said immediately, handing me one of his pumpkin pasties. A very small but genuine smile touched my lips as I accepted his offer.

"My name's Cedric Diggory," he said, extending his hand. I shook it.

"Sam Evans."

"Well, If you're sorted into Hufflepuff, let me know. I'm the Quidditch team's captain and seeker, and we could use all the talent you've got," he said as he settled back into his seat.

I smiled properly that time.

"Thanks, Cedric. I'll keep that in mind."

An hour and one long conversation about various Quidditch teams later, the train slowed to a halt during the height of a violent thunderstorm. Luna and I made our way out onto the Hogsmeade platform, our cloaks doing little, if anything, to keep us dry. We dashed for the line of carriages I could barely make out in the heavy downpour, Luna grabbing my arm and pulling me along as I stopped short at the sight of the skeletal horses pulling them.

"Thestrals!" she informed me enthusiastically once the howling wind was muffled by the closed carriage door. "Only people who have seen death can see them."

"Oh." I grimaced.

"Hello, Luna," said a girl sitting on the other side of the carriage. Luna looked up.

"Hello, Ginny," Luna replied with a smile.

"How was your summer?"

"Unsuccessful, I'm afraid. Father and I are still having issues with the Quibbler."

"I'm sorry to hear that," the girl named Ginny replied earnestly.

"And your summer?"

"Pretty good," she replied, glancing analytically at me. "Who's this?"

"This is my friend, Sam Evans. Sam, this is Ginny Weasley. She's in her third year, with me, but she's in Gryffindor. I like Gryffindors," Luna added dreamily.

"Hello," I said with a nod.

"Nice to meet you. Evans, you say? Hm…I'm not sure I'm familiar with your family."

"Most people aren't. We travel a lot. Or used to, anyway. Never stayed in one place more than six months or so. That's the way it's been since before I was born."

"No extended family?"

"Not that I know of. If there is, they're very distant relatives. It's just me and my pa—mom. Why do you ask?"

"Your hair," Ginny said simply.

"My…hair?" I asked, confused.

"Everyone in my family has red hair, so I thought we might be related. But yours is quite a bit darker than ours, so probably not. Actually, now that I look at it," she said as lightning lit up the carriage, "it's much darker. Although, your eyes…"

"What about them?"

But the carriage came to a halt and we were whisked away into the warm castle and Luna and I were separated from Ginny.

"Miss Evans!"

I turned at the sound of my name, shaking my hair like a wet dog. Someone was moving quickly toward me while simultaneously warding off a poltergeist hovering above the mass of students in the entrance hall. A professor, I guessed. She slipped on the wet floor, regaining her balance only after flinging desperate arms around a student's neck. "Sorry, Miss Granger," the woman said before moving past her.

"Miss Evans," the woman repeated as she reached me. "Welcome. I am Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress of Hogwarts and Head of Gryffindor House. We'd like to Sort you after the first years, so if you wouldn't mind waiting at one of the House tables until then, it would be much appreciated."

"Sure, Professor."

"Wonderful. Now I need to go check on the first years and make sure they haven't drowned in the lake," she said, rushing off more carefully this time to avoid falling.

I threw Luna a questioning look.

"The first year students get to the castle by taking boats across the lake," she supplied.

"In this weather?"

Luna just nodded absently.

"Yikes."

"Sam!" someone called. I looked over to see Cedric Diggory making his way through the crowd to me. "Sorry to interrupt, it's just that I think you left this on the train." He held out my Quibbler.

"Oh! Whoops, I didn't even notice it was missing. Thanks." I slid it into my bag.

"So, are you going to be Sorted at the feast?" Cedric asked eagerly.

"That's what I've been told. After the first year students, though, so until then I need to just wait at one of the tables." The que began moving as students flowed into the Great Hall.

"You could sit with us at the Hufflepuff table," Cedric offered as we entered. But I wasn't listening; I stared around in awe at the magnificent Great Hall, my jaw slack.

"Wow," I breathed. The ceiling was bewitched to look like the sky outside. It appeared as though the fierce storm was raging just above us, yet not not a single drop of rain reached the floor. I smiled as I marveled at the magic I had only read about before tonight. Cedric chuckled and took my arm, guiding me to the Hufflepuff table. I managed a quick farewell to Luna, who didn't even seem to notice I wasn't around.

"Sam, this is Justin Finch-Fletchly and Ernie Macmillan. They're both fourth years, like you."

I greeted Justin and Ernie in turn just as the Great Hall doors reopened to admit the first year students lead by Professor McGonagall. The new students looked absolutely soaked, not to mention nervous under the gazes of the older students looking up at them.

One of the first year students was gazing around at the older students looking much more at ease than his peers, although his hands were shoved deep into his pockets. His gaze met mine, and I felt compelled to smile reassuringly to the eleven year old boy. He stiffened slightly, staring at me for a moment before grinning shyly back.

"Ackerley, Stewart!" McGonagall cried.

The boy I had just smiled to tensed slightly before turning on his heel and marching defiantly up to the Sorting Hat. When he was seated, his facial features looked entirely blank. There was a pause, the silence pounding in my ears before the Hat opened its brim and shouted "RAVENCLAW!"

Two tables away, the students erupted into cheers, clapping Stewart Ackerley on the back as he joined them with a smile.

After the last first year was Sorted into Hufflepuff, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore rose to his feet. His eyes were on me, and I nodded in greeting, having seen him only the other day to discuss my sudden transfer into Hogwarts.

"We have a new student amongst us today who is not a first year. Would everyone please welcome fourth year student, Miss Samantha Evans!"

The applause sounded confused, which made sense considering very few students ever transferred into Hogwarts. But Cedric and the Hufflepuffs around me applauded merrily and without pause until I had seated myself on the stool.

Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on my head and a soft, shrewd voice sounded in my thoughts:

_ Ah, yes, always an thrilling task, Sorting an older student, _the Sorting Hat whispered. _But I've never yet been wrong! Let's see here. Hm…quite a mind, you've got there. Very sharp, and very wise for your age. You have seen a great deal with your young eyes. Rarely do I find a mind as alive as yours. Very impressive. And oh, how fascinating! Your wit and wisdom has spawned a cunning power within you. Yes, you are filled with great audacity. That's quite a Slytherin trait you've got there; you would do well in that House. You are a force to be reckoned with, there is no doubt about that._

_ But eternally and ultimately, as I said at the beginning, your mind is your weapon and your shield. So it better be…_RAVENCLAW!

I opened my eyes, not realizing I had shut them, and found the Ravenclaw table cheering madly. I smiled a real, proper smile:

I was in my dad's old House.

Professor McGonagall removed the Sorting Hat from my head and I went to join my new Housemates. Luna made room for me next to her, and I sat, my robes now emblazoned with the blue and bronze crest of Ravenclaw. I turned and made eye contact with Cedric from across the Hall and shrugged apologetically. He just smiled encouragingly back and kept on clapping until obscene amounts of food appeared on the tables. Everyone began to tuck in.

"So are you going to write your mum and tell her about your Sorting?" Luna asked kindly.

I hesitated, filling the silence by also filling my plate.

"I suppose I ought to," I said, choosing my words carefully. "Ravenclaw is my dad's old House, after all. That's how he and your father met, remember Luna?"

Luna didn't take the topic-change bait. Not that that was a surprise.

"You don't think your mother will approve." Luna said bluntly, but there was no edge to her voice. She was merely stating a fact.

"What do you think?" I groaned, wishing Luna would drop the subject. But that was too much to hope for.

"Seems rather odd for a Slytherin to marry a Ravenclaw and then disapprove of her daughter being in Ravenclaw, don't you think?"

"Yes, well, that's my mother for you," I said glumly, tucking into dessert when it appeared. "She'd be even more upset to find out that the Hat considered putting me in Slytherin and didn't," I said, keeping my voice low so only she could hear.

"Is that why you winced?"

"Did I?" I asked. Luna nodded.

"Maybe you ought to leave out. The Hat chose Ravenclaw, therefore that's where you belong."

"Tell her that, will you?"

"Evans," came a gruff voice just as I was making my way out of the Great Hall with the other Ravenclaw students. Turning, I found myself face to face with the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody.

"Yes?" I noticed Professor Dumbledore was standing next to him.

"Would you please join us in my office?" the headmaster asked kindly.

Confused, I nodded uncertainly and followed the unlikely pair away from the rest of the students and up to the headmaster's office.

"Please, have a seat," Dumbledore offered, gesturing to one of the seats in front of his desk. The room was entirely too grand for my liking, but it was inviting nonetheless. I sat without hesitation, watching Dumbledore expectantly.

"My sincerest apologies for dragging you away from your new Housemates, but I'm afraid it can't wait, not even until the morning."

"What's happened?" I asked swiftly, catching on that I was about to be informed of something very serious. I forced my mind to stay blank, but an absurd notion crossed my mind that I was about to be told that the Sorting Hat had chosen incorrectly, and that I was being transferred to Slytherin. I winced.

"It's about your father's case," Moody growled from the other side of the room. He had refused to sit down.

"I already gave my witness statement," I said immediately. "And frankly, sir, how do you know about it?"

"Miss Evans, there have been some developments in the very short time you've been away from home," Dumbledore said, radiating calmness. I returned my attention to the headmaster, feeling uneasy. I had left this _morning_. How could anything have happened since then? "Magical Law Enforcement has been unable to come to any sort of conclusion on the evidence they have been poring over for the past week. They have given jurisdiction of the case over to the Auror Office."

My mind whirled uncomfortably with an endless stream of theories and queries. "I thought the Aurors were busy dealing with the aftermath of the World Cup. Why—?"

"Why?" Moody interrupted. "Because it's a murder investigation, Evans, and one that involves Dark wizards, no less."

I fell still at his blunt words, staring down at my shoes.

"We're going to need your wand."

"What?" My head shot up and I stared disbelievingly at the professor.

"All Magical Law Enforcement has managed to do is clear your father's wand from any involvement in the case. But the Aurors are a little more thorough. We'd like to check yours as well," Moody said firmly.

"We—?" I said vaguely, lifting a hand to my forehead in confusion.

"Professor Moody used to be an Auror," Dumbledore informed me. "Part of his job description as a member of my staff is to act as a lesion between the Auror Office and yourself, keeping you involved in your father's case while you are here at school."

My head was starting to ache. I thought all this would be behind me when I came to Hogwarts, but I was quickly being proven wrong.

"I haven't used my wand all summer. And I'll need my wand for classes now that I'm here," I said, looking up at Dumbledore.

"Indeed you will. For the time being, you will be using this wand."

Dumbledore opened a drawer in his desk, extracting a carefully wrapped package marked "Cleared by Magical Law Enforcement" in large, bold letters. He lifted the lid with a small flourish, extending the box toward me.

I didn't respond right away. I just stared intently at the wand I knew so well:

My father's wand.

I reached out with tentative fingers, removing the wand from the box and cradling it gently. I kept my mouth sealed, afraid that if I opened it, a tidal wave of emotions would come spilling out. There were too many for me to sort through, so instead of speaking, I wordlessly extracted my own wand from my robes and handed it to Dumbledore.

"Thank you, Miss Evans," Dumbledore said kindly. "Would you like assistance in finding Ravenclaw Tower?"

I shook my head and got to my feet. I exited the office, wand still in hand.

I paused just outside Dumbledore's office, breathing deeply and willing myself to relax. After several long moments, I began walking. I had seen maps of Hogwarts in several books, and I forced myself to concentrate on remembering them as opposed to how I was feeling.

The castle was dark and the corridors empty; not quite the way I expected to see the school for the first time. I saw a ghost floating absently through a wall up ahead and a scruffy cat prowling down one of the side corridors I passed. The cat looked up at me abruptly, the look in its eyes far too human for my comfort. I quickened my pace, climbing down two sets of stairs to the fifth floor, where I recalled Ravenclaw Tower being on the map.

I found a spiral staircase just off the main hallway, and figuring it for the one that lead up to the Tower, I began to climb. At the top was a door with no knob or keyhole, but a large bronze knocker shaped like the House animal: the eagle.

"If it takes ten men to dig a hole, how many does it take to dig half a hole?" the bronze eagle asked serenely.

I stared at it, wondering if this was a prank on the new student. I glanced around, but I was quite alone on the staircase.

"There's no such thing as half a hole," I said rather scathingly, feeling as far from a polite and sociable mood as I could get after my meeting with Dumbledore.

To my great surprise, the door swung open before me.

A single look inside told me that this was indeed Ravenclaw Tower. The common room was wide and circular with a decidedly airy feel. The carpet was a dark, midnight blue, and the arched windows were draped with soft blue silks. Tables and chairs and bookcases covered the area, encouraging studying and learning.

But my favorite part was the ceiling. It was domed and painted with silver stars. Looking at it was like looking at a clear night sky, and it was breathtaking. I was thankful for the calming sensation it provided, because I immediately felt my rush of emotions from the evening ebb away.

_Oh yes_, I thought. _This is my House._

"There you are, Sam," came a dreamy voice from nearby. I spotted Luna and crossed over to her. "Where did you go after the feast?"

"Professor Dumbledore wanted to speak with me," I said quietly as Luna guided me around to various parts of the Tower. "About my father's case," I added when Luna didn't appear to catch on. "Looks like the Aurors are taking over."

"Oh my. The Aurors are part of the Rotfang Conspiracy, you know," Luna said placidly, but her eyes bugging somewhat. "They're working from within to bring down the Ministry of Magic using a combination of Dark magic and gum disease."

I stared at her for a long moment, then roared with laughter. "Oh Luna," I gasped, "what would my life be like without you?" I continued shaking with laughter, seeming to startle several nearby Ravenclaws.

"Much less interesting, I'd imagine," Luna said seriously, and my laughter flared once more.


	3. Chapter Two: With a Bang

**Chapter Two: With a Bang**

I awoke the next morning with a heaving gasp. I had dreamed about Dad's death. Again.

I watched him die night after night, and I'd cry out to his dead body every time, knowing it would never move again, and knowing there was nothing I could do to change what had happened. My mother's face would appear. She was never angry, and she would never yell. She just looked so utterly and entirely disappointed as she spoke somberly:

_ "If only you had been good enough."_

My heart felt twisted and rotten. I curled my legs into my body and forced myself to breath. The task suddenly seemed impossible, but I wouldn't let myself cry out. No one could make this better. No one could come and kiss this pain away. So I breathed deeply, composed myself, and opened the curtains to start my day.

The fourth year Ravenclaws were excited to have a new face amongst their little crowd during classes. Each professor throughout the day welcomed me at the start of class during role call, and I'd try out a smile.

Double Potions with Hufflepuff was just before dinner where we learned about antidotes from a pale, unfriendly looking professor with long black hair named Professor Snape.

Mother had told me that her favorite professor from her time at Hogwarts was a Potions master named Horace Slughorn, but it appeared he had retired some time ago because this professor had been around for about thirteen years according to Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Hufflepuff I met at yesterday's feast.

This professor didn't call role, probably because after three years with these students he didn't see the need for it. He lectured tirelessly on the subject, sounding as though he had a deep-seeded fascination for the topic, but doubted that any of the students would appreciate what he was saying. I found it fascinating nonetheless, the way one small change could undo the work of almost any poison like a reset button. If only there were a reset button when it came to life, I thought dolefully.

I hurried to complete the last of my notes as the bell was ringing for dinner. Justin, who was sitting next to me, heaved a sigh of relief and began packing his things. He was clearly eager to leave the class. But I stayed to jot it all down, not even glancing at my bag as I finished my notes.

I rolled up my parchment when I was done and slipped it into my bag. With most of the students gone, I could finally see the professor properly. I wondered vaguely why he had chosen to become a teacher, let alone keep the post for over a dozen years. He didn't seem to enjoy it much.

The professor looked up suddenly, as though he had known I was analyzing him. A small frown settled itself over his slightly widened eyes. Was the fact that I was a new student so disarming, I wondered as the Potions master continued to stare at me. Granted, Professor Flitwick had nearly toppled off the pile of books he was teaching atop of in excitement this morning, but this was quite different.

"Miss Samantha Evans," he said as the last of the students exited the classroom.

"Professor Snape," I replied evenly, not wanting to sound as cautious as I felt.

The professor nodded and looked back down at the parchment in front of him. I hooked my bag over my shoulder to leave. I glanced back at the doorway to find him staring at me again.

"Out," he barked. My eyebrows flew up at this, and I hurried out the door feeling more than a little confused.

I strode swiftly away from the dungeons. The look in the Potions master's eyes had been off-putting, to say the least. I had never gotten a more confusing first impression from anyone before today. I tried to shake the strange feeling away as I neared the entrance hall.

A strange sound coming from around the corner succeeded in pulling me from my thoughts. I figured I ought to be hearing the students queuing up for dinner, but instead there was a startling silence broken only by a dull smacking sound I couldn't place. It happened again. And again. And then the sounds were followed by laughter.

"Never—do—that—again," came a distant growl. The words coincided with the smacking sounds, and that didn't suggest anything friendly despite the collective amusement of whomever was witnessing the event. My left hand clenched violently and compulsively, my fingernails digging into the flesh of my palm. Nothing about the situation sounded good.

I broke into a run, rounding the corner to find the ex-Auror Moody aiming his wand at a small white ferret. The ferret was being bounced up and down, smacking the floor harder with each repetition and squeaking with fear and pain in a way that sounded almost human.

I had seen this sort of thing before, not with a ferret, but with a person. And not just any person; a very important person in my life who had just died…

A pure, unfiltered rage shot through my body, and I could almost hear the air around me sizzle. I instinctively bolted forward, my father's wand in hand for the first time since last night. I threw a disarming spell at the professor so hard that he staggered backward as I dropped to a protective crouch between him and his victim.

The students in the entrance hall gasped in unison, then fell into an undisturbed silence.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the professor spat at me when he had regained his balance. A nearby student hesitantly handed him his wand.

"I might ask you the same question, _sir_," I hissed, my expression calm but my eyes filled with a clear, controlled fury. We stared venomously at each other, eyes locked and wands at the ready until a very startled Professor McGonagall appeared.

I heard a small moan of pain from just behind me: the ferret had resumed its original shape of a Slytherin boy with very blonde hair. Convinced that Moody had been thoroughly distracted by McGonagall, who was now lecturing him on proper forms of punishment, I turned to face the boy. His eyes were watering with pain and humiliation as I reached out to help him up.

He ignored my hand, choosing instead to mutter something in Moody's direction in which only the words "my father" were distinguishable.

"Oh yeah?" said Moody quietly, limping forward menacingly. I spun on my heel to face him, gripping Dad's wand even tighter and pointing it directly at his heart. My hand was steady with determination, causing the professor to stop dead in his tracks.

"Miss Evans," McGonagall snapped, looking positively astounded. "Lower your wand!"

I didn't even blink. Moody paused to consider me, his eyes suddenly shining with approval.

"Your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?" he growled, his good eye switching to look at the boy still curled up in pain on the floor while his magical eye fixated unblinkingly on me.

"Yes," the boy said resentfully.

"Both of you will come with me," Moody said, stalking off in the direction I had just come from, leaving us behind.

Only when he had disappeared around the corner did I put Dad's wand away. The students were now whispering excitedly to each other as McGonagall ushered them into the Great Hall for dinner.

I extended a hand to the boy yet again, but he ignored it. I stepped back respectfully as he attempted to right himself. And he very nearly succeeded, but with a wince and a grunt he toppled over again. I shot out an arm to keep him from hitting the ground and further injuring himself. I pulled him to his feet and he leaned on me resignedly after glancing around to ensure no one was there to witness his weakness.

Slowly, and carefully, we began to walk after Moody.

The boy was still wincing in pain as we made our way into the dungeons. I wondered if he might have fractured a rib or two. I glanced sideways at him, noticing the way he was holding himself. Yeah, definitely a rib.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"I'll be fine," he shot back, clearly resentful that he was being aided by a girl, but gasping slightly at the pain his retort had caused.

"I don't doubt that," I said, ignoring his tone. "But I'm asking how you feel right now."

The boy refused to answer.

Just as we reached the door to Snape's office, the boy looked around yet again to see that no one was around. I saw a change in his stormy grey eyes as the hardness left them.

"Draco Malfoy," he said quietly, extending his hand.

The smallest of smiles touched my lips. It wasn't a thank you, but it was enough for me to catch a glimpse of the man behind the mask.

I shook his hand with my left, seeing as my right arm was busy propping him up.

"Sam Evans."

And together we strode into the professor's office.

"She assaulted a professor?"

Snape's silky voice reached our ears first as we entered. I helped Draco into one of the chairs in front of Snape's desk and settled myself into the one next to it.

"Welcome back, Miss Evans," said Snape with soft sarcasm.

I just barely kept myself from rolling my eyes, but the professor seemed to read my intentions regardless and responding by narrowing his eyes.

Snape stood swiftly, rounding his desk and falling to one knee beside a still-wincing Draco Malfoy. He placed practice hands on various parts of Draco's body, checking for injuries.

"How was he injured?" Snape asked quietly, not looking up from his work.

"Professor Moody transfigured him into a ferret and proceeded to assault him by bouncing him violently on the entrance hall floor," I answered without hesitation or pause for breath, refusing to give Moody the opportunity to invent some excuse. He may be an ex-Auror, but that was no way to treat another human being. And a student, no less! It took all of my restraint to keep from turning and glaring at the man.

Snape's eyes snapped up to look at Moody.

"Is this true?" he asked, sounding slightly smug. I found the urge to smirk at Moody irrepressible.

"Yes, but only because he tried to attack Harry Potter." Moody retorted angrily.

The smirk left my face as Snape and I both turned to Draco.

"Is this true?" Snape repeated, not sounding nearly as smug as before.

"He insulted Mother," Draco said quietly, cringing away from Snape's hands as they reached a certain area of his chest.

"Fractured rib," Snape muttered.

"Knew it," I blurted. Snape whipped his head around to narrow his dark eyes at me. "Sorry, I just…sorry." I looked away immediately.

At that moment, Professor Flitwick and Madame Pomfrey, the school nurse, strode into the office. Snape straightened, gesturing to Draco and allowing Pomfrey to take over the inspection.

"You called for me, Severus?" Flitwick said, eyes falling on me.

"Yes. Apparently there has been an incident in the entrance hall involving these two students and Alastor here that we are trying to straighten out. As Miss Evans' Head of House, she is your responsibility."

"And what exactly happened?"

"From what I've gathered," Snape began, seating himself behind his desk, "Mr. Malfoy attempted to hex Harry Potter after Potter insulted his mother. Alastor proceeded to transfigure Mr. Malfoy into a ferret as punishment, bouncing him violently on the floor, causing several injuries to Mr. Malfoy's person. The rest of the story, including Miss Evans' involvement, remains to be seen."

"She was brilliant," Draco breathed suddenly, his grey eyes lighting up.

"Apologies," Madame Pomfrey said immediately. "I've given him a Calming Draught so that he could relax, but it seems to have relaxed his inhibitors more than normal. He should straighten out in a moment."

"But she was!" he repeated, his speech sounding somewhat slurred as he slumped awkwardly in the chair. "She just came out of nowhere, like a knight in shining armor! Only she's a girl, so…" Draco tried to pull himself out of the chair as he babbled, but Madame Pomfrey pulled him back down and gave him a sedative, knocking the Slytherin out cold.

"Or maybe not," she muttered.

Snape looked at Draco with a pained grimace on his face.

"Professor, if I may," I began, looking to Snape for permission. He paused, considering, before nodding and looking away.

"I saw what was happening, a professor assaulting a transfigured student, I mean. And so I instinctively went to help. Professor Moody's actions were bordering on torture, and in that moment, it didn't matter that he was a professor. I used a disarming spell to put a stop to his actions and placed myself between him and the student. I refused to stand down until I knew it was safe."

The look in Snape's eyes seemed to be battling between surprise and expectation despite the stillness of his facial expression. I frowned slightly at this, wondering why he was so hard to read.

"Of course I know it's wrong to assault a professor, but I wasn't going to stand for such treatment of a student. Any student," I finished with determination.

Silence filled the office.

"Sorry, but," Madame Pomfrey interjected, "remind me, Miss Evans. How long have you been at Hogwarts?"

"Just under twenty-four hours," I replied coolly.

Madame Pomfrey nodded slowly to my response.

"Yes, well, I ought to take Mr. Malfoy to the Hospital Wing for the night. He'll be perfectly all right and ready for class in the morning, he just needs some time to recuperate while I mend this fracture. Good night." And she left, levitating Draco's unconscious form after her.

"Is there anything you'd like to add, Alastor?" asked Snape.

Moody glanced at me, considering.

"That took balls, Evans," he said after a long pause.

I jolted a bit in my seat, clearly startled.

"S-Sir?"

"You'd have made a fantastic Gryffindor," Moody continued. "I'd bet the Sorting Hat considered it. What you did took some serious bravery. To stand up to a professor and ex-Auror for someone you don't even know? That's just bloody marvelous."

I sat there speechless, my thoughts going a mile a minute. But what came out of my mouth wasn't any of those thoughts.

"It almost put me in Slytherin, actually."

There was a pause. Then Flitwick and Moody began to laugh, relaxing the tension in the room significantly. Snape merely raised an eyebrow, his eyes now determinately blank.

"What made you do it, may I ask?" Moody asked, eyeing me eagerly.

I hesitated.

"Do I need a reason?" I ventured, hoping for a way out of the question.

"People usually do," said Moody simply.

"Fine. I've seen someone being injured that way before, and I was helpless to save them, and I vowed that I'd never see that happen again. To anyone," I said in a rush.

"Was the person all right afterwards?" Flitwick asked, concerned.

"No," I said coldly.

Everyone went quiet after that. Moody was staring intently at me, clearly reading between the lines of my words.

"Well, uh, if that's everything, then perhaps we ought to head to dinner before it's finished," Flitwick said, chuckling nervously. "Unless someone feels punishment is in order."

"Not at all," Moody said, hobbling briskly toward the door. "Minerva already lectured me about _proper forms of punishment._ That was punishment enough for me."

I pulled myself to my feet, speechless to inquire as to why I wasn't being punished for attacking a teacher. I followed them wordlessly out of the dungeons.

We entered the Great Hall; most of the students had eaten and left already. Those who remained looked up at us expectantly, clearly having witnessed or heard of the incident. Some looked disappointed that I wasn't limping or anything and went back to their meals. But those who kept watching would have seen Moody clap an enormous hand on my shoulder before joining the other professors at the head table. Flitwick and Snape followed.

I approached the Ravenclaw table, spotted Luna, and sat down next to her. She didn't even bring up the subject, and I tucked in, thankful to have a friend who didn't feel the need to talk everything to pieces.

I chanced a glance at the head table. Moody was clearly reenacting the scene for Professor Dumbledore, who was looking at me rather amusedly. I ducked my head, fighting a blush, and focused on my dessert.

That's when I was struck with an idea.

"Sorry, Luna," I said, wrapping up a couple desserts in a napkin. "I have to go."

"Ok," Luna said absently, waving a vague hand in my direction as I sped from the Great Hall.

I hurried through the corridors, overtaking students who had just left the Great Hall in pursuit of their respective Houses. After only two wrong turns, I burst through the doors to the hospital wing.

Slightly winded, I glanced around the room until I spotted a certain boy with very blonde hair.

"Ah, Miss Evans, he's doing very well. Just needs to stay still for a bit is all," Madame Pomfrey said as she caught sight of me. I nodded my thanks and moved to Draco's bedside.

"I just thought you might like some dessert," I said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. Draco's eyes slid into focus as he registered my presence.

"Oh it's you," he said bluntly. I chuckled a bit.

"Yeah, it's me. Éclair?" I offered.

Draco glanced around the Hospital Wing. It was empty, save for Madame Pomfrey, which was good considering it was the first day of school.

"Why are you here?" he asked, taking the dessert and biting into it.

"Just wanted to see if you're all right," I said simply, placing the rest of the desserts on the bedside table.

"M'fine," he mumbled around his éclair. After swallowing, he added, "That calming draft was a bitch, though."

I laughed. "Yeah, you were a little tipsy there for a bit."

"Was I?"

"I believe you called me your knight in shining armor."

Draco paled, if that was possible.

"No I didn't."

I chuckled kindly. "If you say so."

Draco suddenly reached up and brushed my hair from my face, a small frown creasing his features.

I froze uncertainly. "Uh…Draco?"

"Your eyes…"

"You're the second person who's mentioned my eyes since I got to Hogwarts last night," I said, relaxing. "What about them?"

"They're—" but he stopped short and retracted his hand as Madame Pomfrey came over and switched off the bedside light. She also handed him a small goblet and told him to drink it.

"He'll be drifting off soon. That was a sleeping draft," she told me.

"Ok, I'll leave. Good night, Draco."

"Harry Potter," he mumbled almost inarticulately before dozing off. I frowned amusedly before exiting the hospital wing.

###

I awoke the next morning with a shout that caused my dorm-mate Padma Patil to fall over while in the midst of putting her socks on. She informed me of as much when she came and wrenched open the curtains around my bed.

"What's wrong?" she shrieked in my ear. I repressed a groan of disapproval at the loudness of her voice.

"Nothing. Bad dream," I muttered, which seemed to mollify her.

The dream was always the same. I watched him die night after night in the exact same way, the emerald light of the killing curse blinding me in my sleep. And there I was, helpless as always, with nothing to do but scream. And then there she was, my stoic-as-ever mother, telling me that I wasn't good enough. And every morning was the same, filled with heart wrenching pain and pure terror, fighting to repress the shout on the tip of my tongue.

But this morning I had failed, startling the other fourth year girls. I made a mental note to start putting silencing charms around my bed before I fell asleep.

I strode down to the Great Hall for breakfast still shaking off the effects of the dream. And when I settled down at the table next to Luna, I pulled out my Potions textbook with the intent of reading about the Dreamless Sleep Draught.

I had barely opened my book when I was swarmed by a hoard of students, all of them shouting questions at me. I looked up from my textbook, stunned.

"You attacked a teacher?"

"Do you know he used to be an Auror?"

"Why on earth would you save Draco Malfoy?"

"How much trouble are you in?"

"What spells did you use?"

"I heard you dueled him out of the castle!"

"Well I heard he begged for mercy by the time you were through."

"Well _I _heard she threw off the Cruciatus curse he put on her first!"

"WHOA!" I bellowed, standing up from my seat at the Ravenclaw table and throwing my hands out to ward the crowd off. They all looked at me eagerly as though I was about to reveal some great secret. And just as I opened my mouth to tell them all to bugger off and take their ridiculous rumors with them, a booming voice shook the Great Hall.

"SAMANTHA EVANS."

Everyone fell still and silent, including the mass of people surrounding me. The student body collectively craned its neck to see the new arrival in the Hall: two Aurors were standing in the entranceway, wands drawn, eyes scanning the room.

"Yes?" I said quietly, my voice carrying effortlessly in the silence of the room. The two Aurors spotted me still encircled by the mob of questioners. They stalked toward me without hesitation. The whole of Hogwarts watched as the men approached.

"Samantha Evans, you are under arrest," one of the men stated into the quietude—there was a collective intake of breath—"for the murder of your father, Mr. Theodore Evans."


	4. Chapter Three: Nobody Asked

**Chapter Three: Nobody Asked**

Everything that happened next was a blur. I vaguely remember being dragged bodily out of the Great Hall, my total shock preventing me from retaliating. There was a hand in my robes, swiftly removing my wand from my possession. I wanted to tell the man to take his hands off my father's wand, but then Dumbledore was there, and he was shouting. Something about manhandling his students and making public accusations, I recalled hazily.

My legs didn't seem to be functioning, which was just as well because I was suddenly in a chair, a firm hand on my jaw encouraging me to drink the potion that appeared at my lips.

The room suddenly came into view, and a soothing warmth advanced through my body. I tried to jump to my feet, to take action against this ridiculous allegation against me, but strong hands pushed me back to the chair. I whipped my head around so fast that I got a crick, all to find that it was Professor Snape holding me down. He also had an empty vile in his hand marked Calming Draught.

"Thank you, Severus," came Dumbledore's now-controlled voice.

I blinked repeatedly, taking in my surroundings: I was in Dumbledore's office, in the very same seat I had been in just two nights previously, no less. In this office stood a variety of people: the headmaster and myself, of course, along with the two Aurors, Professor Moody, Professor Snape, and Professor Flitwick. Everyone looked both furious and confused.

Everyone was also looking at me.

"Miss Evans," Dumbledore began calmly. "I believe these two gentlemen would like to talk to you." The headmaster gestured to the two Aurors.

I turned to stare at them. They looked upset by the turn events, clearly wishing they had made it out of the castle with me in their custody. I shifted in my seat, feeling my anger bubbling beneath the effects of the Calming Draught Snape had given me.

"Ask away," I said. My voice shook, and my left hand clenched convulsively into a fist, but I remained seated. Snape removed his grip from my shoulder.

"The Auror Office has reviewed your father's case in great detail," the Auror said emotionlessly. "Evidence points to your wand having fired the curse that killed Theodore Evans."

I blinked. Twice.

"Weighing in the fact that there are no witnesses to the event who have stepped forward, there is no evidence suggesting that anyone else was present at the time of the murder."

"Also," the other Auror chimed in, "since this incident occurred outside of any educational situation and included the use of an Unforgivable curse which resulted in someone's death, Miss Evans is to be tried as a full adult despite her age."

A stony and suffocating silence filled the room. My lungs seemed to have vanished from my body as I sat immobilized in the chair. I could almost see my life evaporating into smoke before my eyes. It was all over.

"Well, now that we've got that out of the way, perhaps we ought to consider an alternative or two?" Dumbledore said cheerily.

I gaped at him, as did the two Aurors.

"I beg your pardon?" one of the Aurors ejaculated. "We will be escorting Miss Evans to Azkaban straight away so she may await her trial!"

"No, I don't believe you will," Dumbledore said gently, popping a lemon drop in his mouth.

The Aurors and I continued to gawk at him.

"Miss Evans, you have two options," Dumbledore said, seating himself at his desk and gazing down at me, "two very apparent options that our friends here have managed to overlook."

The two Aurors glared incredulously at the headmaster. But the look I was giving the headmaster was a mixture of fear and hope as I awaited his next words.

"You may either provide us with the memory of the night your father was murdered, or," he added swiftly, noticing the panicked look on my face at the possibility of reliving the incident as it had actually occurred and not as I had dreamt it every night since, "or you may subject yourself to questioning under the influence of Veritaserum prepared by our very own Potions master."

"Memories can be altered, Dumbledore! And Veritaserum can be tricked!" an Auror cried indignantly.

"By a fourteen year old student?" Dumbledore said, an edge touching his voice.

"Oh," the Auror said, immediately backing off.

Dumbledore turned a kind face toward me. "The choice is yours, Miss Evans."

I glanced around the room, feeling so very alone in spite of the number of people present. The Aurors looked suitably abashed. Professor Moody as stoic as he always did, which severely contrasted the trembling Professor Flitwick who stood next to him. Professor Snape, on the other hand, looked like he had swallowed something particularly unpleasant.

"Veritaserum," I whispered, ducking my head and closing my eyes. I heard Snape move away from where he had been standing behind me, along with his voice as he used the castle's Floo Network to travel to his office. I sat there in silence and in stillness, my head bowed, too numb from the Calming Draught to feel anything. So I just waited.

Snape stepped out of the fireplace moments later, a small, clear vile in his hand. He looked to Dumbledore for confirmation.

"Would you like to conduct the interrogation here?" Dumbledore offered, but something in his voice suggested that the Aurors would have a difficult time doing it anywhere else. The Aurors nodded wisely. "Very well. Miss Evans, you may ask any of us to depart, if you so wish."

I glanced around the room again. Dumbledore should be there, surely. And Moody was involved in a way due to his connection to the Auror Office. Flitwick was my Head of House. And Snape was providing the Veritaserum. I sighed, shaking my head to refuse Dumbledore's offer.

"As you wish. Are there any last requests you'd like to make, Miss Evans? Anyone you wish to join us, perhaps?"

"Like who?" I asked, looking up at him. His eyes twinkled.

"Your mother?"

My gaze hardened at his words. "No," I said firmly.

"As you wish. Severus?"

Snape stepped forward, offering me the vile of clear liquid. I took a deep breath, reassuring myself that nothing I would say under the liquid's influence would harm my defense in any way. I had nothing to hide, and they would soon figure that out.

Feeling more secure, I straightened my posture and took the vile from Snape's hand. I withdrew the dropper from the vile, opened my mouth, and allowed three drops to trickle onto my tongue.

I replaced the dropper to the vile and handed it back to Snape. I frowned in consideration, working to decide exactly how the potion was effecting me. I didn't feel very different; the Calming Draught had already desensitized me a fair amount.

"Miss Evans? What are you thinking?" came a voice.

"I'm trying to determine the effects of the potion other than its truth-telling ability," I replied without looking up, feeling no desire whatsoever to hesitate or soften the truth. "I've never taken it before."

"I see."

I looked up to see that it was one of the Aurors speaking. Glancing around, I saw Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Moody still looked stoic as ever, if not a bit eager to hear the end of the story he had caught a snippet of in Snape's office. Flitwick was staring wide-eyed at me, his eyes filled with concern. Snape merely had an eyebrow raised.

"You like Potions, then, Miss Evans?" one of the Aurors prompted.

"Oh yes," I said immediately.

The Auror smirked, glancing at Snape. "Do you like your new Potions teacher?"

I nodded. "He's very knowledgable, but it's obvious he's frustrated because so many of the students aren't very cognizant of the subject and how vital it is to the Wizarding world."

The professors all exchanged surprised looks. I felt a distant sense of embarrassment at my response, but it was suppressed by the Veritaserum.

"Who taught you Potions before you came to Hogwarts, Miss Evans?" the Auror asked.

"My mother," I said. "She's very good at Potion making, but she's a much worse teacher than Professor Snape."

"Did your mother teach you anything else?" the Auror pressed, looking to get off the subject of Potions.

"No. Just Potions. Dad taught me everything else."

"Did you get along well with your father?"

"All the time. Dad was my best friend. We did everything together: he taught me wandwork, Quidditch, the arts…every time we went somewhere new, we'd go out and learn something together from the locals." I smiled faintly at several memories that found their way to the front of my mind.

"Did you and your father argue very often?" the Auror asked, frowning.

"Hardly ever. If anyone argued, it was Mother and I. Dad and I had nothing to fight about."

"I see," the Auror said, his frown deepening. "And your father took you to see the Quidditch World Cup, is that right?"

I nodded.

"Tell us about what happened after the match," the Auror ordered.

"The Death Eaters came. They brought nothing but destruction and pain," I said, my voice sounding much more relaxed than how I felt. The Calming Draught still seemed to be working; I didn't feel the same fear I usually did when I reentered these memories.

"I remember Dad grabbing my hand, and we ran faster than I had ever run in my life. I'd never seen Dad look so scared. And just as we had escaped the crowds and left the Death Eaters behind, one of them appeared in front of us. I don't know why he wasn't with the others.

"He grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against a nearby tree. I remember the feel of his hand as he groped me. I remember screaming and struggling with all my might. But he was too strong. And Dad, he tried to hex him, but the Death Eater Stunned him. I tried to escape, to run to my father, but the Death Eater bound me to the tree trunk with magical ropes, and I couldn't move anymore.

"I remember him swearing as he turned and revived Dad. I remember the him laughing gleefully as he pointed his wand at Dad and lifted him into the air. He slammed Dad into the ground. And he did it again and again and again while I screamed and begged for mercy. And Dad was yelling "Let her go! Let her go!" as he was being tortured. But then I heard his ribs break, and I could tell his lungs had punctured. And he couldn't breath or speak anymore. He stopped fighting. And so the Death Eater killed him."

I drew in a long, shaky breath before continuing.

"The next thing I knew, the Death Eater was in my face again. So close. Too close. And the look in his eyes…the hunger…I could see it…there was nothing I could do to stop him. He…" My voice broke, but the Veritaserum pushed me forward. "His hands were under my clothes. They were so rough, so unforgiving as he lifted my skirt and ravished me. The whole time he was laughing, shouting things I didn't understand. But then there was a loud whip like sound, like someone had stepped on a large twig, and the Death Eater ran. Just like that. He ran away. The ropes faded away, and I slumped to the ground. It was over."

The hush that fell over the room was complete. No one was breathing or moving in the slightest. I pulled my legs up onto the chair, hugging them to my chest. The school bell rang in the distance, but no one reacted to it.

The door burst open suddenly, making everyone jump, and a frazzled looking Professor McGonagall toppled into the room.

"Please, Albus! I can only teach so many classes at once!" she cried, holding up a small golden Time Turner in one shaking hand.

It took her only a moment to register the dark aura of the room at large. She dropped her hand to her side, looking distinctly abashed.

Having been shaken out of speechlessness, the Auror spoke, "You say he Stunned your father _after_ he groped you?"

I nodded, still curled up in a ball, holding myself tightly.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes," I said, no doubt in my mind.

Another pause of silence fell.

"Miss Evans, why didn't you tell all of this to the officials during your witness statement?"

"No one asked what the Death Eater did to me, only what he did to my father."

More silence.

"Bugger," the Auror said muttered to himself. He quickly pulled himself together. "Very well. This interrogation is over. Professor Snape, you may administer the antidote."


	5. Chapter Four: Meeting the Family

**Chapter Four: Meeting the Family**

"Am I going to Azkaban?" I murmured.

A soft chuckle sounded close to my ear. "No, Miss Evans. You're only in the hospital wing. No need to fret."

I opened my eyes and glanced around. I was indeed in the hospital wing. "What happened?" I asked, sitting up. There were no Aurors present in the ward. "They let me go?"

"Indeed they did," Dumbledore said kindly, eyes twinkling. "You have been cleared of all charges."

"Cleared?" I repeated disbelievingly. "But, how?"

"Here, why don't you eat this while I explain. A student brought it in for you while you were asleep. He said he didn't need to leave a name, that you would figure it out on your own," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling brightly as he handed me an éclair wrapped in a napkin.

I stared at the éclair, jaw slack, as I realized that there was only one person in the entire world who could have brought it to me. That person was also the last person in the world I expected to have done so, considering his reputation. But I knew very well from growing up that when the impossible has been eliminated, whatever remains must be the truth. And so I accepted the dessert Draco Malfoy had brought me.

"The reason for your release rests solely on a small detail from your story. Working under the theory that the Death Eater in question took your wand from you when he sexually assaulted you, it can be explained that the Death Eater did in fact murder your father. Now, of course, having confessed this under the truth-telling potion, the Aurors are forced to believe you. But in the unlikely scenario that you may have overpowered the Veritaserum, something in your story showed them that there was evidence against their case."

"And what was that?" I asked, swallowing the last of the éclair and setting the napkin aside.

"You said that the Death Eater Stunned your father when he tried to rescue you. The post-mortem analysis of your father's body proved this as well, if you recall the initial findings." I nodded. "When they checked your wand, they made note of every spell it had cast within a three day period of the event. Your wand did not register that a Stunning spell had been used."

I gawked openly at the headmaster. "What?" I asked, feeling both relieved and confused at the same time.

"The working theory is that the Death Eater didn't want it known that he had committed the murder, so he used your wand and then planted it back on your body when his work was complete. However, during his assault on your body, he must have mixed up the wands in his hand and used his own to cast the Stunning spell, thus producing concrete evidence that someone else had been present at the time of the murder."

I sank back into the pillows, flooded with consolation. _I wasn't going to Azkaban._

"But wait," I said, pushing myself back upright. "Why wouldn't he want anyone to know? Why would he go through all that trouble just to make it look like it was me?"

Dumbledore shook his head thoughtfully. "That I do not know. Perhaps the question will be answered someday, but not today. Your body was drained by the effects of the Veritaserum, and you ought to take it easy. The students are about to be let out of class for lunch. Perhaps you should join them."

Dumbledore took a step back, and I slid off the bed. I spotted my bag sitting next to the night stand, and I lifted it over my shoulder.

"Sir, what about my wand? Will I get it back?"

"All in due time. After the course of events, I'm sure the Aurors would like to look at your wand a bit more closely." I nodded in understanding. "Professor Sprout and Professor Hagrid have been notified of the reason for your absence from their classes today, but Professor McGonagall expects you in her class this afternoon."

"Thank you, sir."

The school bell rang just as I exited the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey released me after a quick once over, and I began my journey to the Great Hall. I shook my head warily, wondering how so much could happen so quickly. And not only that, but that something so ridiculously unexpected would crop up out of nowhere! But, I reasoned, the attack at the World Cup had been ridiculously unexpected as well. It only made sense that the aftermath would be equally as rocky.

The Great Hall was buzzing with life as I entered. But, as I expected, the noise faded at my arrival, only to be struck up again by skeptical whispers. I ducked my head, wishing I was invisible, and crossed over to the Ravenclaw table where Luna was waving to me.

"You've been noticed," Luna said unhelpfully, pouring food onto my plate when I did nothing but stare moodily at it. I made a noncommittal noise before forcing myself to eat.

"If any of you say a single word to her, I'll infect your pillows with Wrackspurts!" Luna cried suddenly, glaring menacingly around, all trace of dreamlike quality gone from her voice.

I looked up, noticing the startled glances of the Ravenclaws around me, as well as several other students who had snuck up behind me with the intention of asking more questions. They froze, then backed off dejectedly.

"Thanks, Luna," I said, putting as much sincerity in my voice as I could manage. She smiled absently and returned to her meal. I realized, with a smile, that infecting a pillow with Wrackspurts ought to be an act feared by all Ravenclaws, as it would result in fuzzy brain activity, something no Ravenclaw would ever desire.

The lunch hour passed uneventfully after that, thanks to Luna's not-so-clearly-understood threat, and I trudged to Transfiguration feeling marginally less alone.

And with that thought, I strode into the Transfiguration classroom and took a seat. Professor McGonagall met my gaze and nodded, and that nod said more than words ever would. But the moment vanished when she called the class briskly to order; she began pairing off the students to learn a spell.

"Miss Evans, would you come here and join Mr. Potter?" McGonagall requested.

"Of course," I replied, rising and making my way over to where she had gestured.

"Hi, I'm Harry Potter," the boy with unruly jet black hair and glasses said, extending a hand. I shook it.

"Sam Evans. It's a pleasure to—oh," I trailed off.

"What?" Harry asked, lifting a hand to the fringe of his hair. I realized immediately he was trying to cover his very famous scar, but that wasn't what I was looking at.

I was staring into eyes that were unequivocally identical to my own, eyes that widened when they came to the same realization.

It must have looked rather comical, the way we were gaping openly at each other, but it seemed entirely humorless to the two of us.

"Wait, did you say Evans?" Harry said as the noise level in the room began to pick up with students shouting the incantation they had just been taught.

"Yeah, why?" I asked, still staring intently into Harry's emerald eyes.

"I—I think that was my mum's maiden name. Lily Evans."

"Lily Evans," I murmured under my breath. "Yeah, I think, wait…yes!" I earned myself a disapproving look from Professor McGonagall, which I ignored.

"What is it?" Harry asked eagerly.

"I remember my dad once mentioning that he had a cousin named Lily." The memory was hazy, and she had only been mentioned once, but it came back to me when I heard the name.

Harry and I stared at each other slack-jawed and utterly speechless. The noise in the room seemed so distant, as though someone had turned the volume down in the room.

"We're related?" Harry breathed.

"Distantly, but yeah. I think that makes us…" I paused to calculate. "Second cousins one removed. But my family traveled a lot, so I never got the chance to meet any extended family. I didn't realize I had any, to be honest."

We sat in silence for a bit, entirely lost in our own thoughts. _I'm related to Harry Potter, _I thought, completely taken aback. For the first time in my life, I started regretting not being around to get to know my extended family. Who else was out there? And why hadn't my parents let me meet any of them?

I was pulled out of my musings when I noticed Harry's hands were trembling. I turned toward him, opening my mouth to ask if he was all right when he made a strange, almost desperate noise and threw his arms around me.

I stiffened for a brief moment, but relaxed immediately, and we just held each other. I blocked out the fact that the entire class had quieted significantly, trying desperately to pretend they weren't there at a time like this. Then Harry sniffled into my neck, and I realized he was crying.

I didn't hesitate.

"Excuse us, Professor," I said with as much dignity as I could muster as I lifted Harry to his feet. I grabbed his bag and my own and escorted him from the classroom. I took him down the corridor a ways before finding an empty classroom and pulling him inside. Only then did he pull away from me.

"I'm sorry," he said, wiping his face and looking away, clearly embarrassed. "I just…I grew up without my family, so even this is just…it means a lot to me."

"No need to be sorry," I said as soothingly as I could, dropping our bags on the floor and sitting him down at one of the desks. I sat down at the desk next to it, pushing it closer to Harry's.

"Will you tell me about your family?" he asked shyly, not quite meeting my gaze.

"Oh, well…my parents are big on traveling, like I said, so as soon as they graduated from Hogwarts they started traveling the world. And getting married and having me didn't stop them. I haven't lived in one place for more than six months or so, so I suppose Hogwarts is the first place I can properly call home."

"Same here," said Harry quietly. "Hogwarts is my home."

"Let's see…my mother works in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. She used to be some sort of consultant, from what I can gather, so she didn't have to be there all the time. But now that we've settled in London, she's been promoted to a more regular position at the Ministry."

"And your father?"

"My dad worked at the Quibbler."

"Worked?"

"Yeah." I took a deep breath. "He died."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Harry said sincerely, his eyes shining with sympathy.

"I miss him a lot," I admitted, my hand twitching involuntarily. "He was the one who home-schooled me for the past three years, even as we traveled. He would send all his research for the Quibbler via owl so he could spend more time with me. We would play Quidditch together, and we'd go out and try and perfect at least one thing from wherever we were in the world."

"He sounds like a really great dad."

"He was. He was my best friend."

A breath of silence fell over us. Then, very much wanting to get the attention off me, I began asking the questions.

"So who do you live with?"

Harry stiffened visibly.

"You don't have to—" I started immediately, realizing I had struck a vulnerable spot. It would have been the same coming from he had he asked about what it was like to live with my mother.

"I don't really talk about it with people," Harry said slowly. "But you're not people, are you?"

A small, grateful smile touched my lips at that.

"I live with my aunt and uncle. My mum's sister, so she'd also be your dad's cousin. Petunia Dursley?" I shook my head and shrugged. My dad had never mentioned her. "Well, it's probably better if you don't know her. My aunt and uncle despise anything that's not what they consider normal. And their son, my cousin, is the biggest bully you'll ever meet. I've served as his punching bag on more than one occasion."

"Did your aunt and uncle put a stop to it?" I asked immediately, my anger flaring at the injustice.

Harry snorted. "No. They turn a blind eye toward anything my cousin ever does."

"That's abuse!" I cried.

"I never knew any other way of life. They rarely fed me, they only ever let me wear my cousin's hand-me-down clothes which were always enormous, and they kept me in the cupboard under the stairs until I was almost eleven."

"Harry!"

"You can keep that a secret, can't you?" he pleaded, his bright eyes begging with me.

"Of course, but…is it still like that for you?"

"I have my own room now," Harry said with a shrug.

"Oh, Harry." I shook my head. "If my family had known, we would have never let that happen. That's just wrong. But I suppose they're technically closer relatives to you. Does anyone else know?"

"Dumbledore does. He placed me there with them. He said I'll be safe there, but I don't know how he figures that. And then my two best friends know. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Have you met them yet?"

"I haven't."

"You should. You'd like them."

The school bell echoed through the hallway, starting Harry and I out of our little world.

"Dinner," Harry said vaguely. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For not staring at my scar, like everyone else does when they meet me."

We were exiting the classroom when someone called out Harry's name. Two Gryffindors from our Transfiguration class were waving at us.

"Harry, where on earth did you go? You missed the entire lesson!" said the girl with bushy hair somewhat patronizingly.

"Wait, weren't you the one who was arrested this morning?" Ron blurted, looking at me.

"Er—yeah. The Aurors made a mistake, though. I didn't do anything," I said, attempting to sound casual about the whole thing. The three Gryffindors seemed appeased by this.

"Ron, Hermione," Harry said, a smile growing on his face. Hermione glanced back to me, and her eyes widened suddenly with confused realization. Ron, on the other hand, just looked downright confused. "This is Sam Evans. Sam's father is my mum's cousin."

"No!" Ron exploded, a grin breaking out on his face to match Harry's. The smiles were infectious, and soon Hermione and I were smiling, too. "That's brilliant!"

"I thought you didn't have any other family, Harry!" Hermione said, surprising me by flinging her arms around my neck and hugging me enthusiastically.

"We didn't know," I said as she pulled away from our embrace. "I don't think anyone knows, really."

"Bloody hell. That's just great. Does this mean you don't have to stay with your aunt and uncle anymore, Harry?" Ron asked, clapping me on the shoulder in welcome.

Harry and I looked at each other, Harry suddenly looking apprehensive. I shrugged, still smiling.

"We should talk to Dumbledore about that," I said; Harry's face split into the widest smile I'd ever seen.

"In a better mood now, are we, Mr. Potter? Miss Evans?" came Professor McGonagall's stern voice from the entrance to the Transfiguration classroom.

"Forgive us, Professor," I said, immediately sobering under her glare. "It was entirely unexpected, and we didn't mean to appear so rude." I glanced at Harry, who nodded his consent, and I continued. "You see, Harry and I realized, just now during your class, that we are distantly related, and it came as a bit of a shock seeing as neither of us realized we had an extended family to speak of. And the emotional consequences left us unable to concentrate in your class. We hope you understand, Professor."

Ron let out a low whistle and Hermione elbowed him.

"I see," she said. Her glare had faded, and she looked distantly impressed and decidedly mollified.

"Well then. Just make sure you practice the spell and have it learned before next class, or I shall take away House points. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry and I said together.

"Very well." And McGonagall departed.


	6. Chapter Five: Taking Flight

**Chapter Five: Taking Flight**

The following weeks were not nearly as dramatic as my first three days. I found myself adjusting quickly to life at Hogwarts, an ability I had picked up after years of living without a permanent home and a task that became infinitely simpler when students stopped pestering me about my arrest. I told them repeatedly that the Aurors had made a mistake, and when everyone realized that was the story I was sticking to, their desperate hunt for some gruesome story to back up what they had witnessed lessened. The gossip began transforming into incessant babble about the Triwizard Tournament Dumbledore had announced, the students talking excitedly about who was submitting their name to be Hogwarts champion.

Desperate to get away from the constant whispering about both events, I exited the castle with my broomstick hitched over one shoulder. The weather was perfect, and I let the breeze carry me to the Quidditch pitch. I mounted my broom and lifted gracefully into the air, taking a couple laps around the pitch, grateful to be free of the tension of the castle's atmosphere. I basked in the freedom I felt while flying. It felt so natural, being in the air.

I floated around the pitch, singing quietly to myself. Dad and I had had an ongoing competition to see who could learn more musical instruments from the various countries we lived in. We would improvise to each other at night when Mother was out working late and see who had learned the most. The score had been tied when-

"Oh, hi there!" someone called out, interrupting my thoughts. I glanced down to find a fellow Ravenclaw entering the pitch.

"Hey," I called back, recognizing the girl as the Ravenclaw seeker. I flew down to meet her. "Cho Chang, right?"

"Yeah. You're the new girl. Samantha, was it? I didn't think anyone would be out here," she confessed, shifting her broomstick to her other hand.

"Great minds think alike," I said, grinning. "Care to join me? And please, call me Sam." Cho returned the smile, then mounted her broomstick and kicked off the ground.

"I brought out a practice Snitch," she called out. "Actually, this will make it more realistic." The Snitch flew out of her palm and disappeared.

We both lifted higher into the air, eyes peeled for the golden ball. The wind rustled gently against my robes as I searched…_There!_

I dove. Cho tore after me a split second later. We were neck and neck, flying dangerously close. The Snitch veered suddenly away from the pitch, zooming out over the grounds and taking me by surprise.

Cho made some apologetic comment about mixing up the area settings, but didn't slow as we chased after it. I sped after her. A few students out on the front lawn spotted us and cheered. We laughed appreciatively as we followed the Snitch over to Professor Hagrid's hut.

We were gaining on the Snitch. It glinted blindingly in the sunlight. It was flitting just out of reach, but then it shot left, favoring me. I threw out my hand. Cho cut swiftly in front of me, effectively blocking me from what would have been an easy snag. Before I stopped to consider, I leapt instinctively upward from my broom, arching over Cho as my broomstick slipped beneath her. I flipped in midair, arms outstretched, and my fingers found the winged ball as I fell to meet my broom.

"Bloody hell!" came an excited voice. Ron Weasley came pelting out of Hagrid's hut looking entirely awestruck. "Harry, did you see that?" he shouted unnecessarily; Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid were right behind him.

Meanwhile, Cho was laughing excitedly. "Oh, Sam, next season is going to be amazing. Gryffindor, you better watch yourself!" And with that, she flew off toward the castle, still laughing.

I landed gently on the grass.

"She's right, Harry," Hermione said with a smile. "Gryffindor better bring it next season, or Ravenclaw might just take you all by surprise."

"You flatter me, Hermione. But what's one or two decent player against seven?" I said honestly. I had heard so many rumors about the talent on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and how they had won the Cup for the past three years running.

"Well, we'll be losing some players as people graduate. Who knows what Gryffindor will be like in the next few seasons?" Ron admitted, still gazing admiringly at me.

"Gryffindor'll be just fine," Professor Hagrid said gruffly. "S'long as they've got Harry."

"Cheers, Hagrid," said Harry with a smile as he snapped out of his wide-eyed fixation on the spot in the air where I had caught the Snitch.

Hagrid turned away abruptly and began walking toward the Beauxbaton carriage. The four of us stared confusedly after him.

"Wasn't he going to walk with us to the castle?" Ron said indignantly. But when Madam Maxime joined Hagrid, the situation became clear. Harry's gaze met mine, and we began chuckling. Ron joined in, ignoring Hermione's disapproving look. And, still laughing, we made our way back to the castle.

As soon as I had walked into the Great Hall, Cho appeared next to me. She grabbed my arm and pulled me over to a seat at the Ravenclaw table. I managed to wave my farewell to Harry, Ron, and Hermione before I found myself being introduced to Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain. Cho was recapping what had happened outside and a hungrily competitive grin found its way onto Roger's face.

"She's a natural on a broom. I've never seen anything like it, except Harry Potter, of course," Cho was saying, but Dumbledore got to his feet and the Hall fell silent. We all watched as the Goblet of Fire, the vessel through which the three champions would be selected, flared red, and a small piece of parchment fluttered into the air. Dumbledore snatched it, scanned it briefly, then turned to the body of students waiting with bated breath.

"The champion from Durmstrang is Viktor Krum!"

Cheers erupted from the Hall as Viktor Krum made his way to the indicated side chamber. I had heard rumors that he was here at Hogwarts, but this was the first time I had laid eyes on the Quidditch star. My memory took me back to the World Cup when I had seen him fly. It was like he didn't even need the broomstick, the way he flew. It had been a dream to watch, the way he moved in the air. I remember watching him, wanting desperately to try out the moves he was executing.

"The champion from Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!" Dumbledore called out, pulling me from my thoughts.

A very pretty girl stood up not too far from where I was sitting. She flounced over to the side chamber where Viktor Krum had gone. She was rather beautiful, and I couldn't help but stare at her with just as much intensity as I had stared after the Quidditch player.

"Davies," Cho snapped suddenly.

Cho was waving an irritated hand in front of Roger's face. His pupils were dilated as his eyes followed Fleur's every move. I snickered before returning my attention to Dumbledore, who was collecting the last piece of parchment from the Goblet.

"And the champion from Hogwarts is…Cedric Diggory!"

The Hufflepuff table positively exploded with screams and applause as the boy I had met on the train got to his feet. I grinned appreciatively as Cedric, with an impossibly wide smile fixed to his face, walked proudly over to the side chamber. The applause continued for quite some time after his departure. I continued smiling happily as Dumbledore made to continue speaking. But the Goblet flared red again, and the applause ceased abruptly.

"What?" I whispered, gawking at the Goblet.

Dumbledore looked intently at the parchment the Goblet had spat out at him.

"Harry Potter."

I whirled in my seat to find the Gryffindor table, seeking out the eyes that matched my own.

"Harry Potter," Dumbledore repeated. "Up here, if you will."

Harry had fallen into complete stillness, as though waiting for an explanation that never came. He shook his head slowly, deliberately, his eyes screaming that he had no idea why his name had just been called. But that didn't change reality; Hermione pushed him to his feet and Harry slowly made his way to the side chamber.

"Congratulations to each champion," Dumbledore said, his voice sounding somewhat forced. "Now, to bed. Good night." He turned abruptly toward the side chamber, dismissing the crowd, which began tittering with noise about what had just happened.

I realized I was on my feet and I didn't know how long I had been that way. The rest of the students got up as well and began leaving the Great Hall.

"Come on, Sam."

"Luna, he didn't do it," I said shortly, still staring at the side chamber door instead of the person who had just appeared at my side.

"I never said he did. But it's time to leave."

A quick glance told me the Hall was nearly empty now, and I let Luna guide me back to Ravenclaw Tower.

I awoke the next day feeling like I hadn't slept a wink. I dreamt of Dad's murder yet again, only everyone in the dream had been wearing Harry's wide-eyed expression from last night, eye color included. I woke up feeling rather haunted and I decided I had to speak to Harry straight away.

I spent the entire day in the Great Hall studying and glancing repeatedly at the doors for the Gryffindor, but he never appeared. Luckily, my Potions partner, Justin Finch-Fletchly, distracted me by asking an endless string of questions in relation to our essay that was due tomorrow on antidotes, and I very nearly forgot about my search for the mysteriously absent Gryffindor.

"So, essence of murtlap…" Justin said, making it obvious that he wanted me to fill in the blank.

I fought the urge to hit my head against the table. We had been discussing antidotes for over an hour now. It just didn't seem to be sinking in for him.

"Come on, Justin. Think. You know this," I said, battling the exasperation from my voice.

Justin stared at his closed Potions book, clearly thinking hard to no avail. The silence lengthened. I sighed inwardly and began elaborating on the particular antidote's purpose while watching Justin's eyes widen with recognition.

"Oh right! Cuts and abrasions," Justin exclaimed as I finished. "Why can't Snape explain it like that?" he added in an undertone.

"Eh, he's not so—"

"Well done, Miss Evans," came a cold voice from behind me. I stiffened visibly as I recognized the Potions master's distinctive voice.

"—bad." I finished, biting my lip and praying that he wouldn't comment the last bit of our conversation. I flushed, remembering when I had divulged my love of Potions under the influence of Veritaserum. He had never mentioned it, of course, but there was a knowing gleam in his eye that made me blush. I turned reluctantly to face the professor.

"Five points to Ravenclaw," he said in a low voice, glaring at Justin, who shrunk away.

I blanched.

"Er—"

Snape departed. I gawked after him, feeling both smart and stupid at the same time.

"Wow," Justin breathed, both of us now staring after the professor's retreating form. "Snape just gave points to a House that wasn't Slytherin! That never happens!"

"No kidding. Even I know that by now," I said vaguely, remembering all the times in his class when I had done well and he hadn't even looked my way.

Justin looked at me strangely, and then, "Oh yeah, I keep forgetting you're new here."

"Cheers, Justin," I said with a smile.

"Someone didn't know what essence of murtlap is?" came a drawling voice from the next table.

I whirled in my seat to find Draco Malfoy and his typical gang of Slytherins looking gleefully up at Professor Snape, who had clearly just told them what had happened with Justin before sweeping away toward the staff table. I glanced at Justin, who looked absolutely mortified.

"How thick are they? Oh, please tell me it was Potter," Draco sneered as Pansy collapsed against him in a fit of giggles. "Or no, a Hufflepuff. I'll bet it was a Hufflepuff."

"And if it was a Slytherin?" I said loudly. "What then?"

Draco's eyes snapped up to find me looking calmly back from the Hufflepuff table where Justin and I were seated. I raised an expectant eyebrow.

"Oh shut up, Evans," Pansy shot back, still leaning against Draco although she had ceased laughing.

"Nice retort. Care to try for an intelligent answer?" I said coolly.

One of the boys leapt to his feet, but Draco immediately ordered him to sit back down. The boy lowered himself reluctantly into his seat.

I slid easily off the bench and crossed the short distance to the Slytherin table, ignoring Justin's attempts to keep me where I was. I walked right up to the group, leaning casually past Draco's entourage and speaking directly to the man himself.

"What then, hm?" I said quietly.

"Do you realize how outnumbered you are?" Pansy snapped, clearly disapproving of my close proximity.

"Well, considering I'm not talking to anyone but this boy right here," I said slyly, nodding at Draco, not sparing Pansy a single glance, "I'd say the final count is about even. Unless he needs all of you to help him answer a question."

Draco flushed darkly at my words. I could see a crack in his mask, and I felt myself sneering.

"How disappointing," I said softly, my voice dripping with double meaning that only Draco would notice.

"Samantha?" came a timid voice from somewhere near my naval. Glancing down, I saw the first year boy I had noticed at the Sorting. The sneer dropped quickly from my face.

"Yes?" I replied, pulling myself upright.

"Samantha Evans?" the boy inquired.

"That's right. And you're Stewart Ackerley, yes?"

The boy nodded. I noticed he was clutching his copy of _Magical Drafts and Potions._ He glanced at the Slytherins, looking uncomfortable.

"Let's go over here," I said kindly, gesturing back to the Hufflepuff table. The boy nodded again and hurried over to where I had pointed. I followed, not sparing the Slytherins another glance. I heard one of the boys huff indignantly, as though he had never been so thoroughly dismissed before. I also heard Pansy say quietly, "Forget her, Draco. She's just a brainy Ravenclaw."

I sat myself back down in front of Justin, who looked absolutely astonished.

"You've got audacity, Sam, I'll tell you that," Justin said, tearing his eyes away from the Slytherins.

"That's what the Sorting Hat told me," I said with a shrug, gesturing for Stewart to seat himself next to me. "Stewart, this is my friend Justin. Justin, this is Stewart Ackerley."

"Hello, Stewart," Justin said, clearing away some of his stuff to make room for the newcomer.

"Hi," Stewart said shyly, not looking at Justin. "I was told you're the person to go to for help with Potions." He spoke to the textbook clutched in his hand.

"Really?" I said, startled. "Who told you that?"

"Professor Snape."

I choked on my own breath, floored beyond measurement. Justin's jaw was slack and his quill fell out of his hand.

"See, one of the other first years melted his cauldron during class, and Professor Snape was absolutely livid. He dismissed us all at the bell without telling us how to do the assignment he gave us, and when I asked him what we should do, he snapped, 'Why don't you ask Samantha Evans? She's the only one good enough with a cauldron that might actually care about your dilemma. Now get out of my classroom.'"

Justin and I laughed delightedly at Stewart's impersonation of Snape. I was impressed by Stewart's vocal range, considering he was only eleven years old.

"Why would he single you out?" Justin wondered aloud, glancing up at the staff table where Snape was eating. "Other than you and Stewart are in the same House."

"No idea," I said, but thinking once again back to my Veritaserum-induced confession. "But maybe that's why he ignores me all the time in class, because I know what I'm doing but I'm not one of his slimy snakes." I glanced back at the Slytherin table as I spoke. "Well, so long as he's not taking away points…"

"Hear, hear," Justin agreed. "And that's probably why he awarded you points now as opposed to when everyone's around."

"Well, maybe that means he's not a total prick," I said with a shrug.

"So, is it all right if I ask you for help?" Stewart asked timidly, still clutching his textbook.

"Of course!" I said with a smile. "What can I help you with?"

Stewart and I discussed basic Potions for several minutes before he lit up with recognition and said Snape's assignment made sense now. He scampered off to the Ravenclaw table, where I saw him relay the information to his fellow first years. I smiled, feeling accomplished.

"Is it bad that I learned more from you in the past five minutes than I learned from Snape my whole first year?" Justin said, scrawling hurriedly on a piece of parchment.

I shook my head, exasperated but still smiling.


	7. Chapter Six: New Divide

**Chapter Six: New Divide**

I didn't see Harry until Transfiguration that week. The Gryffindors seemed to be more cohesive than ever since the Goblet of Fire incident, sitting together on one half of the room and not allowing any of the Ravenclaws to sit next to them. I craned my neck in an effort to make meaningful eye contact with Harry, but he didn't look my way.

When class was dismissed, I fought to make my way over to Harry as the students poured from the classroom. I had just neared the crowd of Gryffindors when a snide voice raised above the general ruckus.

"Hey, Potter!"

Michael Corner had pulled out a "Support Cedric Diggory" badge and was making an obvious fuss about pinning it to the front of his robes. He pressed on it, and the badge flashed "Potter Stinks."

"Catch!" he called tauntingly, tossing another badge into the air. A few Ravenclaws were sniggering. The Gryffindors grumbled unappreciatively. The badge soared in a graceful arc toward Harry before exploding mid-flight.

The students fell into a confused silence. They shifted, looking wildly around the corridor for the cause of the explosion, their eyes falling eventually on me. I stowed away Dad's wand without any trace of haste and threw a look at Ravenclaws and Gryffindors alike that caused them to back away as I made my exit. No one spoke as I passed, the hem of my robes trailing in my wake.

I kept clenching and unclenching my hands as I thought furiously: Had the fluke with the Goblet of Fire really shattered all school unity? Was everyone going to take sides over this? And to my consternation, a single glance around the courtyard answered this question:

In the weak November sunlight, the students were divided into groups according to Houses. If they weren't, they were divided by the Champion they supported. Gryffindors stood alone, which had typically been the role of the Slytherins. The Hufflepuffs clearly stood behind their champion, decking themselves in their House colors. Ravenclaw, like the Slytherins, did nothing more than sport "Support Cedric Diggory" badges.

I scowled.

Lost in my thoughts and busy glaring at the school at large, I didn't hear my name being called until it was right in my ear.

"Thanks," Harry said shortly, leaning against the column I was standing next to. He was alone.

"Huh? Oh, right. Forget it."

"You all right?" He sounded both tired and concerned.

"I should be asking you that," I said, ignoring his question.

Harry turned away. "I didn't put my name in the—"

"I know."

He whirled to face me again.

"You believe me?" he blurted.

"Of course I do. Why shouldn't I?"

Harry looked as though he might explode from gratitude.

"Thank you."

"What, not enough support from the Gryffindors?" I joked.

"Oh. Them. Sorry. I don't know what's gotten into them. There was a huge celebration that night. And yet Ron doesn't believe me. We haven't spoken all week. Everything is just so turned around."

"Ron? Really?"

"Yeah," Harry muttered darkly.

"And Hermione?"

"She's fine."

"That's good."

We looked out over the courtyard at the new divide.

"This tournament should have united all of Hogwarts. Now look what it's done," I said softly.

"You mean what _I've _done?" Harry said bitterly.

"No. You didn't do this," I said immediately and more harshly than I had intended.

"You're right. Someone else did," he said, shifting against the column.

I paused, considering. "You think so?"

"It has to be," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Any ideas who?"

"Aside from Voldemort? Not a clue." He glanced at me, seeming to expect a reaction to the uttering of You-Know-Who's name, but I just stared openly back.

"Could it really be him?" I said, my voice sounding smaller than I wanted it to.

"Who knows? It wouldn't be the first time he found a way to get to me here at school," Harry said bitterly.

"Really?" I said, turning away from the courtyard to face him properly, feeling nervous about this bit of information. "He's been here? Does the staff know?"

"Of course they do. My first year here, he attached himself to one of the professors. He was too weak to have a body of his own," Harry recalled.

"What happened?" I asked uneasily. "Obviously you're still around."

"Yeah, well, I managed to hold him off until Dumbledore showed up. But he came back my second year. Sort of. This old journal he used to keep while he was at school here showed up, and a part of him sort of reanimated, I suppose. He reopened the Chamber of Secrets, which had a giant basilisk hidden inside. It managed to petrify quite a few people before I killed it."

"You killed a basilisk?" I asked, impressed.

Harry ducked his head modestly.

"Wow. That's quite an accomplishment."

"Everyone thought I was the Heir of Slytherin that year, though. They thought it was me petrifying those people."

"What? How could they think—"

"Because I can talk to snakes. Apparently. That was a bit of a shock for me as well," Harry cut in.

"Oh, yeah, that might throw people off," I said honestly, looking back out over the courtyard.

"Does it bother you?" he asked, looking concerned.

I shook my head. "I've found weirder things in life." I turned back to him with a smile and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You wouldn't do that to anyone."

"Miss Evans," came a gruff voice from nearby.

It was Professor Moody; he was holding out my wand.

_My wand._

"Thank Merlin," I whispered, feeling the warmth of the cedar wood when my fingertips came in contact with it. I gripped it firmly, and silver and white sparks danced at the wand's tip. I let out a relieved sigh.

"The Aurors weren't able to find any concrete evidence on it. Oh, and your mother has requested you send her your father's wand immediately," Moody growled.

"What?" I snapped.

But I knew it was no use arguing; I let out a frustrated huff of air. "Of course she does."

"You'll send it to her, then?"

I glared at Moody's wooden leg before nodding obediently.

"Good." And Moody stalked off, clunking on every other step.

That same week, Moody asked me to stay after class. Grimacing, I stayed in my seat while my fellow Ravenclaws dispersed.

"I was just checking to see how you were doing. Dumbledore says I should get reports from you every once in a while to see how things are going for you, considering the stress you're under" Moody grunted from across the classroom. I remained firmly seated.

"Oh. Right."

Moody raised an expectant eyebrow.

"Oh, uh…fine. Everything's fine," I lied.

"If you're going to lie to me, do it properly," Moody said sharply. I stared at him for a moment before making my face appropriately blank.

"Everything's fine," I said steadily.

"Much better. Now, how are things actually going?"

I sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"Have you written home yet?"

I hesitated.

"No," I said truthfully. "But I did send Dad's wand to Mother."

Moody considered this before moving on.

"Making friends?"

"What? Oh, uh…I suppose."

"How are classes?"

"Are they paying you extra to play therapist?" I said suddenly, taking myself by surprise.

Moody raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. "Any favorite or least favorite professors?"

I gave in. "Not particularly…Professor Flitwick seems kind enough. Although Professor Snape is one that I haven't been able to decide on at all. He keeps confusing me."

"Hm…has Snape been acting peculiarly toward you?"

"A bit, I suppose. He awarded me points one time, which was a shock since I'm not in Slytherin."

"I see…" Moody looked as though he were lost in thought. "I wonder…"

"Professor? Is that all?" I asked hopefully.

"Harry Potter."

"What about him?" I said, glancing to the door, wanting very much to leave.

"Has he confided in you at all about the Triwizard Tournament?" Both of Moody's eyes were on me now.

"Er—yeah. Why?"

"Nothing. Just wondering if he'll be able to get what he needs for the first task."

I frowned. "What?"

"You keep me posted on anything unusual, all right?" Moody said swiftly, backing toward his office.

"Sure," I said warily as he disappeared through the door, leaving me standing in the now-empty Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom feeling more than a little confused.

I was up late that night in the Ravenclaw Common Room mulling things over. Luna had gone to bed some time ago, leaving me alone, staring unblinkingly into the fire and reflecting on what Moody had said. I twirled my wand absently in my fingers.

_"Have you written home yet?" _he had asked.

I glanced down at my bag suddenly as though it had bit me. Compulsively, I reached over and pulled out a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink, and my quill. I stared at the parchment for a long time, wondering what could be driving me to do what I was about to do.

_ Dear Mother, _I wrote slowly.

I stared at those words for even longer than I had stared at the blank parchment. She probably didn't care that I hadn't written her. She hadn't written me, that was for sure. And it was already November. Why now?

I looked up abruptly when the entrance door opened. It was rather late now, and I was one of very few people still left in the common room. Who could be entering the Tower at this hour?

"Good evening, Miss Evans!" came a squeaky voice.

"Professor Flitwick! Good evening, sir," I said, straightening in my seat and turning to face him.

"Would you come over here a moment?" he asked kindly. I stood immediately and walked over to where he was standing next to the announcement board. I dropped to one knee next to him as he handed me a sheet of parchment with a gesture to hang it up where he couldn't reach.

"What's this?" I asked, reading the title of_ Got Talent?_

"There's going to be a major event later this year, and Dumbledore gave me permission to assemble a group to perform at it!" Flitwick said excitedly. "I can't tell you what it's for yet, but whoever makes it is in for a real treat. Are you musical, Miss Evans?"

"It's been known to happen," I said, catching onto his excitement with a grin. "What kind of group is it?"

"Well, it's a bit different than the choir I run, so it's a new area for me. This one is going to be a rock band, like the kinds that most of the students listen to. Guitar, bass, keyboard, drums, vocals, you know, that sort of thing. And it'll be four students, one from each House."

"Oh, that's good! I think inter-House unity needs to be emphasized, especially now when we have visitors from other schools."

"I quite agree. It's hard to be united when there are two Hogwarts champions, don't you think?"

I nodded fervently in agreement.

"Do you think this might be something students would be interested in?" Flitwick asked seriously.

"Of course! I know I'll go for it."

"Will you?" Flitwick said, smiling widely.

"Yeah!" I said honestly, rising to post the parchment to the announcement board.

And, still smiling, Flitwick departed.

I glanced again at the parchment with a smile. If there wasn't going to be Quidditch, at least there was something for me to try out for.

With a yawn, I turned back to the table. The letter to my mother was still sitting there. My yawn ended in a groan; I stared at it for a moment before crushing it in my hands and hurling it across the common room and into the fire.

###

There was less than a week left before the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, and the students seemed to be quivering with excitement, gossiping loudly about their guesses as to what the task would entail. I hadn't bothered to speculate, but what I had read on the history of the Triwizard Tournament made me even more worried for Harry.

"_Sam!_"

I whirled at the urgency in the person's voice. Harry was rushing toward me, Hermione in tow.

"What is it?" I asked as he grasped my upper arm and pulled me off to the side of the corridor.

"Dragons."

"What?" I asked, looking between Harry and Hermione, not understanding.

"The first task," Harry said, a look of mild terror in his eyes, "is dragons."

"What!" I exclaimed. "You have to get past a _dragon_?" I repeated, still disbelieving.

But when Harry nodded, I let go of my incredulity.

"Hold on. Hold on. Let me think." I shut my eyes and racked my brain and everything I knew about dragons. I had seen a few during my travels, but never had I needed to know how to get past one.

"What am I supposed to do?" Harry said, his voice shaking slightly. I reached out and put a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

"We'll figure this out. Trust me, Harry."

Hermione chimed in. "There are options, but whether or not they are capable of being taught to a fourth year with limited magical experience is a different story. Any helpful form of transfiguration would be far too complicated, and dragons are very difficult to take out because of their thick hide."

"So distraction and an offensive attack are out of the question. Good."

"Good?" Harry spluttered incredulously. I opened my eyes to look at him comfortingly, sensing his bewildered agitation.

"Harry, it's a matter of deducing. By eliminating what is not an option, we eventually find the answer."

Harry was staring at me like I had lost my mind. He glanced at Hermione, who was gazing at me with an approving look on her face. He shook his head and looked away.

I scanned my surroundings, looking for something to spark some idea. The pressure to think of something was mounting, and it spawned a giddy excitement in me; this was a pressure I knew I could handle. I watched as students were making their way to and from classes, chatting unconcernedly to each other about such trivial matters in comparison to what was on my mind at the moment. Down the corridor there was a small cluster of professors talking quietly to each other. I spotted Moody leaning heavily on his staff, and that's when his words came back to me about Harry _getting what he needs._

"Got it!" I practically shouted, flinging my arms in the air energetically.

"What?" Harry and Hermione said together.

"And we've been learning it in Charms, too! Oh, brilliant!" I said, gesticulating.

"What is it?" Hermione pressed.

I turned to face them, grinning.

"You better be as good a flier as everyone says you are, Harry."

"Why?" he asked, looking entirely lost.

"Think about it! You've got your wand, so use it to get what you need!"

Hermione grinned as she caught on.

"Wait, so what am I doing?" said Harry, looking between the two of us.

"Harry," Hermione said, taking Harry by the elbow and guiding him to an empty classroom. "It's time we perfected your Summoning charm."

###

The day before the first task, I found myself in a very crowded room awaiting my turn for the audition Professor Flitwick had told me about. I was surprised by the number of students who had shown up. My honest guess was that most weren't very talented, but were, rather, enamored with the idea of being in a band. A group of younger Hufflepuff students were giggling loudly to each other in one corner, talking about what they would do when they got the part. I shook my head, amused, and looked elsewhere.

There didn't appear to be any Slytherins at the moment, which saddened me. But even as the thought crossed my mind, a Slytherin boy slipped silently into the room. He looked as though he didn't want to be seen. He scanned the room, spotted the empty chair next to me, and made his way over to it.

"Is anyone sitting here?" he asked hesitantly.

"No, please," I said, gesturing. He sat, looking around at the group. He seemed utterly relieved that there were no other Slytherins around.

"I'm Terence Higgs," he said, offering his hand. And pleasantly surprised, I shook it.

"Sam Evans," I said. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

A small group of Gryffindors were looking at the Slytherin with distaste. Sparing them nothing more than an unapproving glare, I turned to face Terence.

"What do you play?" I asked.

"Piano. My mum taught me. She also taught me to sing. You?"

"Well, I've learned few instruments in my life, but guitar is my favorite. That's what I'm auditioning on today, anyway. And vocals. What are you going to perform?"

"Oh, just this piece I wrote. It's nothing special."

"You compose? That's so cool! I'm a bit of a lyricist myself, but I've never been very accomplished at writing music to go with it. Can I hear a bit of it?"

"Sure," said Terence, glancing around shyly.

We leaned closer together and he began singing softly.

_I see your face in my dreams_

_A perfect life, or so it seems_

_A thousand worlds shine in your eyes_

_A thousand wishes echo in my mind_

_I can't help reaching out to you_

_A heart filled with all that's true_

_And you still don't have a clue…_

Terence drifted off uncertainly, chancing a glance at me.

"Wow," I breathed. "Terence…that was…_magnificent."_

"Really? You think so?"

"Absolutely!" I said, still breathless. "And your voice is spectacular!"

"Thank you," said Terence, blushing modestly. "So, uh, what are you auditioning with?"

"Oh goodness, nothing quite so amazing. It's just a little something; you probably know it."

I started singing quietly. Terence smiled as he recognized the popular tune and joined in. Grinning, we sang with a little more gusto, breaking into harmony and descant and crescendoing until the entire room heard us and fell silent. We weaved in and out of the melody, switching parts so easily it sounded like we had been rehearsing together since we were young as opposed to having just met. We were both grinning enthusiastically. And when we were done, we glanced around curiously at the room.

A single person began clapping. Professor Flitwick was standing in the doorway, applauding wildly. The rest of the room soon joined in, and Terence and I swapped embarrassed smiles. As the applause died away, I noticed quite a few students exiting the room, looks of utter defeat etched on their faces. I threw them an apologetic look, but they ignored it.

"Terence," I said, clapping him on the shoulder. "It's been a pleasure meeting you."


	8. Chapter Seven: The Food of Love

**Chapter Seven: The Food of Love**

"Sam!"

Hermione was rushing toward me, waving.

"Hey! How did it go with Harry and the Summoning Charm?" I asked as we fell in step and made our way across the grounds to the first task.

"Really well. I think he's got it."

"Excellent," I said, feeling relieved. "This should be quite a show, then."

"You sound so calm. I can't believe how nervous I am! I'm so worried for him!" Hermione said, her voice trembling a bit.

"I am too, but I think he'll be just fine. I can't wait to see him fly," I added.

We found seats in the stands, which were quickly filling up. Hermione was positively bouncing in her seat from nerves. She jumped spectacularly when a booming voice carried out over the arena to announce the start of the first task. I watched each of the champions in turn as they made their way past the dragon with varying degrees of success, eager for Harry's turn. And when Harry finally strode out to meet his dragon, I straightened in my seat excitedly. Hermione, on the other hand, was hitting Ron and I repeatedly and hysterically.

Harry pointed his wand to the sky, calling for his broomstick. I waited with bated breath, letting it out only when I heard the whistling sound of the broom flying into the stadium. Harry leapt onto it and shot away into the air.

I whooped impulsively, watching him swerve beautifully around the dragon. He was absolutely spectacular. He looked so graceful there in the air, so at home on his broom. And when he had successfully collected the golden egg, I shouted myself horse along with nearly every other Hogwarts student.

Everyone was cheering. And everything suddenly seemed brighter.

"We need to go find Harry! I can't wait anymore. Come on, Ron!" Hermione said, jumping up and down on the spot.

"Yeah, all right," Ron said, looking a bit nervous. "You coming, Sam?"

"Me? No, you two go. You're his best—"

"Don't be daft, Sam. He'd love to see you! Let's go," Hermione insisted, grabbing my arm and pulling me along behind her.

We sprinted to the champion's tent just in time to see Harry walking out of it. Hermione hurled herself into Harry's arms, and Harry's face broke into a wild grin. Hermione eventually let go, and Harry looked over at me, his grin widening. I stepped into his embrace, laughing.

"That was absolutely fantastic," I said into his ear. I felt rather than heard him join in with my laughter.

"Thanks," he said, looking happier than I had seen him all year. He looked over my shoulder at Ron, and I knew it was time to make my leave.

I stepped away from the trio and walked back toward the arena. I stood just inside where the champions had entered where a fairly large group of people had amassed. The judges appeared to be tallying their votes. Several minutes later, the scores were shot into the air from the wands of each of the judges, revealing that Harry was tied with Viktor Krum for first place!

The cheers erupted yet again, and the group in the entrance way was jumping and whooping. I spotted Harry, Ron, and Hermione on the other side of the group, embracing happily.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you will allow me a brief moment." The announcer's voice had changed, and I recognized Professor Flitwick's squeaky voice. The crowd's noise died away. "Thank you. I would like to announce the winners of the Hogwarts band audition. Please help me in congratulating Seamus Finnegan of Gryffindor, Justin Finch-Fletchley of Hufflepuff, Samantha Evans of Ravenclaw, and Terence Higgs of Slytherin!"

The crowd cheered again, and a huge smile broke across my face.

_I did it._

"Sam!" someone shouted in the crowd. _"Sam!"_

Before I knew it, I had been swept off my feet and spun several times on the spot. I threw my head back, laughing excitedly and embracing Terence as he settled me back on my feet.

"We did it!" he shouted over the noise.

"Congratulations!" several people said around us, and we thanked them graciously before turning and trekking back up to the castle together, arm in arm.

That Saturday, Terence and I sat chatting in the Great Hall during lunch, getting to know each other. It turned out that Terence was a fifth year student who had formerly been the Seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch team before Draco Malfoy. It sounded as though Terence still carried a fair amount of resentment from that incident, seeing as Draco's father had bribed the Captain with brand new broomsticks for the entire team. But Terence quickly moved the conversation to clearer waters.

"You know," I said, cutting across Terence with a smile. "You don't seem like the majority of Slytherin students."

Terence grimaced.

"Yeah, I'm aware. I've got the same ambition and resourcefulness they do, I just prefer to remain considerate of others as I go," he said in a tight voice.

"Good for you!"

"Well…it has been difficult getting along with the other Slytherins because of that. They just don't seem to _care_ the way I do."

"I know what you mean," I said honestly. "But if it's any consolation, I think you're fantastic, and the other Slytherins should take a leaf from your book."

"Thanks, Sam. That means a lot," said Terence with a genuine smile.

Spotting Justin Finch-Fletchly making his way from the Hufflepuff table, I waved him over and introduced him to my new Slytherin friend. As we were speaking, Seamus Finnegan made his way over, and the four of us got talking about the group. Justin and Seamus, though hesitant at first at the presence of a Slytherin, warmed up to him quickly.

"I don't sing," Seamus said immediately. "I'm the drummer. I'll play whatever I'm given, and I'm great at improvisation, but this Gryffindor doesn't sing."

"Ha ha, all right. Justin?" I said, turning to my Potions partner.

"I can do back-up if you need, but I'd rather not," he said honestly. "I can play a mean bass, but I'm certainly not a lead vocalist by any stretch of the imagination."

"That's okay. I think Terence and I have that covered."

"So Terence, you're on guitar?" Seamus asked.

"No, that's Sam."

"Oh…really?"

"What, Seamus," I interjected loudly, but ruining the effect by flashing an amused smile. "Didn't think the girl would be on lead?"

"No! I mean, yes! I mean, it's totally fine, I just didn't expect…it's fine!"

We all chuckled appreciatively as Seamus bypassed red and turned a violent shade of maroon.

"I see you've all met."

"Oh, hello Professor Flitwick!" Justin said as we turned in our seats to face the approaching Charms professor. "Yeah, we were just going over who's playing what, weren't we, Seamus?"

Seamus glared at Justin.

"Excellent! Well, best of luck to you all. Don't hesitate to ask me for any help you might need!"

"So what are we going to play?" Justin asked as Flitwick traipsed out of the Great Hall.

"Do any of you compose?" Seamus said, scanning our faces.

"I do," Terrence piped up. "Sam does, too, a bit. I think between the two of us we can pull together a decent performance. I brought quite a few of my compositions with me to Hogwarts. I could bring a few for tomorrow for us to get started on."

"I like that idea," said Justin, nodding. Seamus nodded as well.

I smiled, looking forward to pulling my guitar out for the first time all term. And after dinner, I went up to Ravenclaw Tower and did just that.

"Ooh," Padma squealed as I sat cross-legged on my bed and began strumming softly. She bounded up to me. "Play us something!" The other fourth year girls looked over at Padma's exclamation.

"Like what?" I asked.

"I don't know. Something fun?" Padma suggested.

I racked my brain for something entertaining. And with a mischievous smile, I began to sing:

_Remember that time?_

_When you wouldn't talk to me?_

_No, you wouldn't talk to me_

_Yesterday_

_We were getting along_

_Had a little dance-y thing!_

_Well here's a song I sing_

_My way_

_So baby, come on, come on…_

I strummed the guitar interlude fiercely, smiling at the girls' reactions. They had stared confusedly at me for a while, but getting the gist that it wasn't a serious song by any means, began to giggle and dance around the room.

_Oh, don't you tell me to go_

_Then say "I'm the one,"_

_D-d-do you think I'm dumb?_

_Sorry, did I just stutter?_

The girls erupted with shrieks of laughter, causing several older students to poke their heads in to see what was going in. Padma waved them in, and soon half the girls of Ravenclaw House were in our dorm.

_Won't tell you what you know,_

_But this is the end._

_You were never my friend_

_You were never my—_

_You were never my lover!_

###

Harry and I walked away from the Transfiguration classroom one afternoon on our way to dinner chatting endlessly about Harry's Firebolt and the way it rode. I was still struck with disbelief even after having tried it out myself several days after the first task, and was saying just as much when a second year Ravenclaw came hurrying toward me.

"Can I go to the Yule Ball with you?" he practically yelled while he was still running.

"Do I know you?" I said dismissively, not breaking my stride. The boy came to a sudden halt, looking entirely and comically heartbroken as Harry and I whisked briskly past him.

Harry barked out a loud laugh. "Oh my god, _Sam_! That was _rude_!" he said through his laughter.

"What? I don't know who the hell he is! I'm just being honest," I said, but joining in with Harry's laughter as I finished speaking.

The Yule Ball had been announced recently, and the entire school appeared to have been turned inside out. Everyone was twittering excitedly about the dance. I, on the other hand, had been more interested in finding out that not only would the band—since dubbed _The Four Houses_—be performing at the ball, but we would be sharing a stage with _The Weird Sisters_!

Harry came to a sudden halt, grabbing my arm.

"What? Should I go apologize?" I said, already moving to retrace our steps.

"No, I just…I can't believe I didn't think of this."

"What?"

Harry stared at me, still reveling in some unspoken epiphany.

"Will you go to the ball with me?" he asked somewhat breathlessly. "As friends, of course."

"Me? Go to the Yule Ball with Harry Potter?" I said, pretending to deliberate on the proposal. "I suppose that'd be all right."

Harry blinked.

"Oh Harry, I'm kidding. Goodness, lighten up. Of course I'll go!"

Harry's face broke out into a huge grin, but it quickly disappeared and his eyes widened slightly.

"I should tell you…I can't dance. And the champions and their partners launch the dance." He looked extremely worried.

I laughed. "I've picked up a few moves in my time. We'll be fine. Don't you worry about that."

And Harry's infectious grin returned.

"Well, isn't this just _precious_," came a sneering voice from nearby. Snape emerged from a side corridor.

"_I_ thought so," I replied conversationally before Harry could speak, taking his arm and guiding him toward the marble staircase, leaving a decidedly taken-aback Snape in our wake.

But his surprise didn't last long.

"_Miss Evans_," he called out in such a tone that made me freeze on the spot.

"Sir?" I said without turning around, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing the shadow of anxiety that I was sure had just flickered across my face.

"Professor Dumbledore asked me pass along a message," Snape said slowly, as though purposefully wanting to waste my time. I heard him move closer from behind, but I refused to turn even when I could feel his breath on my neck. I felt the hairs standing up on my neck, but I didn't move a muscle.

"Your mother is going out of the country for the holidays and she notified the Headmaster that you would be remaining at Hogwarts during that time," he said in a low voice directly into my ear.

I went completely rigid at his words, forgetting to breathe. My mind appeared to have ceased functioning as Snape continued to speak.

"He made it sound like your mother didn't realize you'd be staying at Hogwarts for the holidays anyway. Have you not written her to tell her about the Yule Ball? Well, now you can add how you're going to the ball with the only other student in the school who doesn't anyone to go _home_ to," he said in a silky voice, putting an ugly emphasis on the word 'home.'

"HEY! Shut it, you—" Harry exploded, whirling on the spot, his hand plunging into his robes for his wand.

"Harry!" I said, grabbing his wrist to prevent him from doing anything foolish. Snape smirked.

"Yes Potter, listen to the girl," Snape said softly, tauntingly, and I found myself wanting to smack the smirk from his face.

"Professor," I said, my voice calm but my eyes flashing. "Is this what you want?" I pulled my wand slowly out of my robes and held it gently. "You want me to satisfy you with an overreaction to your words? Is that it?" I stared directly into his dark eyes, narrowing my own. I could see the stunned look in Snape's eyes clearer than ever as I stepped directly into his personal space. "Well, whatever it is you're looking for, you're not going to get it."

I dropped my wand at his feet, pulled myself up to my fullest height, and returned to my normal speaking voice. "The answer to your question is no, my mother is not aware of my decision to remain at Hogwarts, just as I was unaware that she would be traveling. But we are both capable of deciding things for ourselves, thank you."

Snape gawked at me for a long moment, looking entirely at a loss for words. Time seemed to stop as we stared openly at each other.

The moment shattered as a nearby door slammed. Snape's jaw rejoined the rest of his mouth rather violently as he took a step backward to put more room between us. I could already feel my irate determination ebbing, and I wondered vaguely if he might punch me in the face.

But instead, the dark-eyed professor swooped down and picked up my wand from the floor, thrusting it back into my hand. He took a deliberate step forward, undoing the work he had done by taking a step back. He leaned forward and whispered in my ear so quietly that I almost missed what he said:

"You _would_ have done well in my House."

He swept away, black robes billowing behind him, leaving me feeling as though I had been punched in the stomach.

"What did he say?" Harry said. I jumped, having forgotten he was there.

"Nothing," I said, turning on my heel and marching away.

"Sam! The Great Hall's this way!" Harry called after me.

"I know!" But I didn't adjust my course.

I slammed a piece of parchment onto one of the tables in the Ravenclaw common room minutes later. I nearly shattered my ink bottle as I treated it similarly, hurriedly dipping my quill into its contents and writing furiously.

_Mother,_

_Safe travels to you during the holidays. I will be remaining at Hogwarts for a formal ball that will be taking place at Christmas._

_Your daughter,_

_Sam Evans_

I glared at the parchment for a full minute before adding a hasty, insinuating post-script.

_P.S. Dad's old House is nice. Oh, and my date for the ball is Harry Potter._

I rolled the parchment tightly before walking briskly to the empty Owlrey. I practically threw the owl out the open window.

"I'm a good person!" I shouted after the rapidly disappearing bird.


	9. Chapter Eight: All the World's a Stage

**Chapter Eight: All The World's A Stage**

As the Yule Ball drew closer, an excited tension filled the school. Girls giggled endlessly about what they were going to wear and who they were going with…in that order. I rolled my eyes so frequently that I feared they would start swiveling in every direction like Professor Moody's.

Moody had seemed uncharacteristically thrilled when I told him I would be going to the ball with Harry.

"That's excellent, Evans!"

"Er—thanks?" I said uncertainly.

Moody cleared his throat. "It's good that you're getting involved in what the other students are doing. You're only fourteen, after all. Especially participating in the Hogwarts band. Good for you."

"Right. Oh, and I wrote my mother," I added to get our conversation back on track to what Dumbledore was probably expecting to here from these progress reports.

"How is she?"

"She hasn't written back."

"I see."

The entrance hall was packed with students awaiting the eight o'clock start to the ball. Some were milling around waiting for their dance partner from a different House. Others were gripping their dates predatorily and flashing wide, off-putting smiles. I found myself backing away from a particularly nasty looking sixth year and running straight into another person.

"Oof—Harry!"

"Sorry…oh, hi!" he said, grinning as he recognized me. He gave me a once-over, his eyes widening a bit. "Oh wow…Sam, you look fantastic! I almost didn't even recognize you!" His voice sounded so earnest that I found myself fighting a blush.

"Thanks," I said, an embarrassed smile making its way onto my face.

"Champions over here, please!" came McGonagall's voice. Harry and I made our way through the thickening crowd to where the other champions were standing. Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies were standing closest to the doors. I smiled and nodded to Roger, silently congratulating him on going after the girl he had been ogling at. Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang were together, and Harry was looking resolutely away from the pair of them.

"Hermione?" I blurted, unable to contain myself when I recognized the girl standing next to Viktor Krum. Harry's head snapped away from Cedric and Cho (he hadn't been able to look away for long) to look incredulously at Hermione.

She smiled widely. "Hi, Harry! Hi, Sam!" Hermione also waved to several other people as the students paraded past us into the Great Hall. And when everyone was inside, McGonagall instructed us to get in a line and follow her. I glanced at Harry, who looked exceedingly nervous. I gave him a little nudge.

"Breathe," I urged him.

"There are so many people! I'm going to make a fool of myself!" Harry replied in a strangled whisper, throwing a panicked glance around the Hall as we entered.

"No you won't. Calm down. I'll help you. Just focus on me and not on everyone else, all right?" I said soothingly.

Harry looked me dead in the eyes with a swift and searching look. He seemed to have found the strength he was looking for because a moment later he looked forward with determination and had stopped fidgeting.

I smiled.

Harry was beckoned to one of the tables by a young man with flaming red hair who looked to be related to Ron Weasley. Percy Weasley, Harry managed to inform me before we were in earshot. Percy engaged Harry in conversation straight away, hardly sparing me a glance. I shrugged, and distracted myself by looking out over the student body; it was a sea of dress robes and nervous smiles.

After dinner was over, the Weird Sisters hopped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause. The champions rose, but not before I had to prod Harry out of some reverie as he gazed interestedly at the band. I took Harry's hand and we walked out onto the dance floor.

"Harry," I whispered kindly. He had been glancing around anxiously again, but his eyes snapped to mine at the sound of his name. I smiled encouragingly, and he relaxed.

I had learned several types of dances during my travels. But more importantly, I had been taught by a very independent witch once how to make it look like the man is leading when in fact the woman was doing all the work. And so we began to dance.

It wasn't bad at all. Harry just kept his eyes right on me, forgetting about all the other people. I guided us through the steps, and Harry followed obediently. After a while, he even began to smile. But when the song was over, Harry snapped back to reality and insisted that we sit down immediately. I shook my head, amused, and sat with him and Ron at one of the tables.

Ron sat sulking for quite some time before Hermione joined them. The two began bantering over Hermione's choice of dance partner, and Harry and I rolled our eyes at each other. I shut my eyes obviously, wondering if they would even notice my outward sign of irritation.

"Sam?" came a voice that wasn't Harry's, Ron's, or Hermione's. I opened my eyes.

"Hey, Terence," I said, trying to hide my surprise at the Slytherin boy's presence. Ron and Hermione had suddenly ceased bickering and the three Gryffindors were giving him unfriendly stares.

"Uh…would you care to dance?" Terance asked quietly, noticing the stares.

"Please," I said, taking his outstretched hand and leaving the glowering trio behind. Terence steered us onto the dance floor and took my waist.

"They don't like me, do they?"

"Oh, uh," I stammered. "It's not you. They just have this thing against Slytherins."

"I see. Well, I'm glad you don't judge me by my House."

I smiled.

We danced in silence for a bit, weaving our way through the crowd of dancing couples. It was nice to just dance and not have to guide my partner through each step, no offense to Harry.

"Evans! Higgs!" came a call from across the dance floor. Seamus Finnegan and Justin Finch-Fletchly were waving us over energetically.

"We're up," I said to Terence.

"Well, aren't you too just the cutest?" Seamus teased as Terence and I caught up with them. Justin sniggered a bit.

"Jealous, Finnegan?" I said sarcastically, snatching his drumsticks from his hand and poking him in the direction of the stage.

"Hey, ow! All right, I'm sorry, just quit it, will you!"

I laughed and tossed him his sticks before lifting my guitar from it's hiding spot behind the stage. We stood behind the stage, waiting for the Weird Sisters to finish their last song before their break. Seamus was tapping distractedly on his lap while Justin and I tuned our instruments. Terrence stood with his hands thrust deep into his pockets, humming quietly.

Thunderous applause echoed through the Hall, and the Weird Sisters soon joined us backstage. They looked thankful for the break, and flashed us all encouraging thumbs-ups as we made our way to the entrance.

"Please join me in welcoming our own Hogwarts band, _The Four Houses_!" Flitwick's voice boomed across the Great Hall. The applause resumed as we jogged enthusiastically up the stairs to the stage, eager to work off the nerves we had accumulated backstage.

"From Gryffindor, fourth-year Seamus Finnegan on drums!" Seamus saluted the crowd with his drumsticks.

"From Hufflepuff, fourth-year Justin Finch-Fletchley on bass guitar!" Justin smiled and waved.

"From Ravenclaw, fourth-year Sam Evans on guitar and vocals!" I bowed deeply with my guitar behind my back.

"And from Slytherin, fifth-year Terence Higgs on piano and vocals!" Terrence held a hand up in response.

The students fell into an expectant silence, moving forward to crowd around the stage. I looked around at my band-mates, each of them nodding their readiness in turn. And so we launched into the first song. Terence and I glanced at each other briefly before delving into the lyrics we had written together:

_There are scars on my back, jagged and white, where I tore the strings loose,_

_The ones you once clung to so you could manipulate my moves._

_Just because you see green where I see blue doesn't mean we can't coexist._

_So quit dragging me along and come walk next to me. No seriously, I insist._

_Just because you declare the night is dark does not make the moon shine any less bright._

_Just because you say that conflict is wrong does not mean people won't fight._

It seemed as though time stood still. Everyone stood around, listening, as though trying to determine if we were worth listening to. And as the song settled into itself, the entire crowd seemed to come to life with cheers and whistling. I glanced sideways at Terence, and we exchanged smiles as we wove our voices through the piece.

The mass of students gathered around the stage seemed to be writhing with life. Justin, I noticed, was grinning madly at the sight of it. I found myself scanning the crowd later as we changed gears into a ballad:

_This my creed_

_Where every soul is never anything but whole._

_Where every heart is safe from being torn apart._

_Where relationships are more than partnerships._

_Where publicity is rooted in authenticity._

_Where simplicity results in genuine felicity._

_I am the Lover who will never do anything but care._

_I am the one who will always be there._

I spotted Harry and Ron entering the Great Hall from outside looking upset about something. Harry nudged Ron and pointed up to the stage. I immediately looked away, not wanting to get distracted. I spotted Cedric and Cho dancing, gazing longingly at each other. Hermione and Viktor were also dancing, speaking in soft tones to one another.

_This my creed_

_It is not composed of meaningless words._

_It is not a vice or some conquesting heist._

_I do not know you and yet I love you_

_Because I am who I am_

_And this is what it is._

_It is only mine._

"I'm sorry to say it's time to say goodbye," I said into the microphone before our last piece. The crowd made noises of protest. "I know, I know, but our time is up. And besides, the Weird Sisters will be returning after this!" Half the crowd cheered at this, the other still looked upset. I threw Terence a surprised look before launching into the last song.

_Beckon me beyond these dreary walls built from cement and the blood of a thousand faceless people._

_Sometimes I think I can hear their voices calling out from behind the veil,_

_Never begging to be released from the lawless existence of this wretched jail_

_Because they're just too damn tired to realize they're falling deeper and deeper into their own minds_

_With the ivory tower following them downwards to where the most elaborate designs collapse into nothing but lines._

The crowd was positively screaming with delight, cheering and dancing to the beat. I began to seriously wonder whether I could be hallucinating it all.

_And the best part is how no one ever realizes they're falling._

_No one never notices the decline from sprinting to crawling_

_Because they're so wrapped up in the futility of it all_

_That they just don't feel the fall…_

Fifteen minutes later, Seamus, Justin, Terence, and I reemerged on the dance floor to be accosted by students congratulating us on our performance. It was as though we had gone on the stage as mere mortals and descended as rock stars. I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

"Were we really that good?" Seamus breathed into my ear. I shrugged, a bewildered look on my face. I had very nearly tricked myself into believing I had dreamt the crowd's reaction.

I found myself being asked to dance by an onslaught of boys I had never met before. I humored each one, figuring I'd live up my brief spell of fame while I could. Some of them blubbered adorably about my voice, but more often than not I was being very clearly hit on.

"This is so unreal!" I muttered to myself as two boys began to fight over who was going to dance with me next.

"Might I take it from here?" said a voice in my ear. I turned to find Harry Potter grinning amusedly behind me.

"Please," I said, laughing. "Could we go outside? I feel like I'm going to be kidnapped or something by this lot."

We exited the castle and walked over to the garden.

"Looking for someone?" I asked when I noticed Harry kept looking around.

"Not really. Ron and I were out here earlier and we ran into Hagrid. But no matter," he said hurriedly. "You should have seen Snape, though." Harry dropped his voice a bit as we spotted Moody chasing two students out of the gardens. "He was blasting bushes apart to catch students snogging, and Karkroff was following him. Kept babbling about something being a sign."

"Weird," I said with a yawn.

We walked through the garden chatting unconcernedly for some time before I noticed several students tailing us. I suppressed a groan before telling Harry.

"Yeah, I noticed," he replied. "Shall we—"

But the rest of his sentence was cut off by a boy jumping out from the bush right next to us and launching himself at me.

"Hey!" Harry shouted, clearly startled. "Get off her!"

The boy's grip on my wrists proved impossible to break as he tried desperately to kiss me. I twisted my head from him, so the boy grabbed my head and neck in an attempt to force me into stillness.

"What the devil is going on here?" came a distinctive voice from around the corner. It was Snape.

"Get—him—off—me!" I cried, trying to get to my wand. Not a moment later, the boy was airborne, hurled into the bushes he had been hiding in originally; Snape had his wand pointed at the boy.

I lay on the ground gasping for breath and, I realized with extreme embarrassment, on the verge of tears. Those few, horrible moments had ignited a dark memory where someone else's hands had been holding me down…

Harry's face swam into view and I felt him pulling me up from the ground.

"Caldwalder," Snape spat, his voice cold and dangerous. The boy struggled to right himself, stepping out from the bush and thoroughly avoiding Snape's hard gaze. "You just bought yourself a month's detention."

"But, sir!" the boy called Caldwalder ejaculated, swaying on the spot, his eyes unfocused and glazed over. I wondered vaguely if it was possible to get properly drunk off butterbeer.

"No buts!" Snape yelled into Caldwalder's face, emerald sparks erupting from the end of his wand, which was still clutched in his hand. "Go," he said, his eyes drilling into the boys'. Caldwalder nearly tripped over himself trying to put space between us and himself.

As Caldwalder's footsteps died away, a silence like none other settled over the three of us. I broke it as an unexpected sob racked through my body.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, wanting nothing more than to be alone at that moment.

Harry stepped closer, wrapping an arm around me in concern.

"Take her inside, Mr. Potter, where there are professors and Ministry officials to prevent any foul play," Snape said quietly, stowing away his wand.

Harry nodded, guiding me back to the castle.

The Weird Sisters had whipped the crowd into a frenzy. Harry and I skirted our way around and found an empty table. I politely declined any more invitations to dance, and we spent the rest of the night sipping butterbeer and watching the students dance.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked gently, shooing away another random boy with a wave of his hand and putting an arm over my shoulders.

"M'fine," I mumbled, downing the rest of my butterbeer in one go and reaching for another. I considered continuing this behavior to see if my theory was correct that Caldwalder had indeed been drunk, but Harry started taking the bottles away from me, refusing to let me have anymore.

Midnight finally came around, and the Weird Sisters stopped playing. After a long round of applause, the students began pouring out of the Great Hall. Harry and I joined the que and made our way into the entrance hall. When Cedric Diggory stopped Harry on our way out, I bade them both goodnight and made my way back to Ravenclaw Tower alone.


	10. Chapter Nine: Ripple Effect

**Chapter Nine: Ripple Effect**

"Sam," Justin whispered, turning away slightly from cushion he was supposed to be Banishing during Charms to talk out of the corner of his mouth. "Did Professor Flitwick talk to you about the band at all?"

"No," I said, intrigued. "Why?"

"I overheard him talking to the headmaster about possibly having us perform at the last two tasks for the Triwizard Tournament!" Justin said, nearly knocking over his cushion with excitement. I shot out a hand to steady it, a grin on my face.

"Really? That's fantastic!"

"That's not all. Dumbledore was going on about all the compliments he had received from the Ministry officials who were at the ball, and the professors, too!"

"Brilliant!" I said happily, thrilled that _The Four Houses_ had been so well received. It had been nearly a fortnight since the performance, and people were still talking about it.

"Did you see the article about it in the _Daily Prophet_?" Justin slid over an old copy of the paper underneath the desk and I scanned the room to make sure Professor Flitwick was otherwise occupied; he was whizzing resignedly past us to the other side of the room.

_**Hogwarts School Bands Together**_

_Unprecedented in the school's colorful history, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry formed a student-run rock band under the guidance and encouragement of Charms professor, Filius Flitwick._

"_There's so much talent out amongst the students that never comes into the light," Flitwick said at the Yule Ball on Christmas Day. "There are so many clubs and organizations that allow students to come together to do something great, but sometimes students fall through the gaps and can't find a place to shine. So I decided to launch this band with the hope that it would not only bring those talented students into the light, but also encourage school unity in a time when the students had been divided between the two Hogwarts Champions. And if I might say so myself, it appears to have done the trick!"_

_The band, known as _The Four Houses_, comprised of the following students: Seamus Finnegan of Gryffindor, who kept a wicked beat on drums; Justin Finch-Fletchley of Hufflepuff, who transformed bass-playing into an art form; Samantha Evans of Ravenclaw, with a voice to rival most professionals and the guitar skills to match, and Terence Higgs of Slytherin, whose stunning voice and piano playing complimented Miss Evans' sound so perfectly, one would think they had been working together for years previously, as opposed to having just met._

The Four Houses _became a hit in an instant. Their impressive and remarkable sound had every student on his or her feet, cheering and moving to their beats. Adults, too! Not a single professor or Ministry official appeared unmoved by these four exceptional students._

_When asked whether _The Four Houses_ might continue performing beyond their one-time commitment, Flitwick refused to comment._

"Mr. Finch-Fletchley! Miss Evans! Keep working!" Flitwick squeaked from nearby.

"Yes, sir!" Justin and I said, refocusing on our cushions. Justin pointed his wand at the cushion and it shot straight into the air like a cork, wiggled, and dropped back down on the desk. I laughed, then took my turn. My cushion soared across the room and I gasped with excitement…until it veered a little to the left of the box we were supposed to be aiming for and took out an unsuspecting student.

"Sorry! I called out across the room.

"Me too," Justin said, taking back the _Daily Prophet_ article.

"Don't worry about it, Mr. Art Form."

Justin chuckled appreciatively, earning a disapproving look from Professor Flitwick. We both ducked our heads and didn't speak for the rest of the hour.

I was glad no Prophet reporter had caught wind of the assault after the performance. Harry hadn't told anyone, either, but of course he wasn't aware of my history.

The next day, I was trekking up from the greenhouses after Herbology, nose in my Potions book. I still hadn't brewed a Dreamless Sleep Potion; the band and the ball had kept me far too occupied for my own projects. According to my textbook, it only took an hour to brew, and every single ingredient was in my own personal potion-making kit. I promised myself to make that a priority, as it would also be a nice distraction from the memory the assault had stirred up.

My Potions book suddenly flew out of my hands as I was lifted to the air and spun several times on the spot.

"Terence!" I cried when I realized who it was.

"Did you see the _Prophet_ article?" he said excitedly, setting me back on my feet.

"I did! Can you believe it? I'm still getting stopped in the corridors with autograph requests!" I noticed the first year Ravenclaws coming down from the castle for their Herbology lesson. I spotted Stewart amongst them, and he waved at me happily. I smiled and returned the wave.

Terence laughed. "Like now?" he said as he turned to see who I was waving at.

"Nah, he's a friend of mine." I frowned when the other Ravenclaw boys started teasing Stewart for waving at me. Stewart started blushing.

"Hold that thought," I told Terence. I snatched up my Potions book from the ground and strode over to the first years. I caught the end of the teasing before the boys realized I was approaching them.

"—your girlfriend?" one of the boys sneered.

"I don't see how that's any of your business, McCormick," I snapped. The boy looked startled at being addressed by name. "Ackerley is allowed to wave at his own friends if he so chooses. Now, run along before I transfigure you into a slug."

The boys yelped and scampered off into the greenhouse. Terence, who had wandered over, was laughing appreciatively.

"How do you know human transfiguration as a fourth year?" he asked, watching the first years disappear and the door slam shut. "_I_ don't even know that stuff yet."

"I don't," I said smoothly. "And you, Stewart, are more than welcome to ignore that comment and threaten you peers with it whenever they tease you like that. Understood?"

"Thanks, Samantha," Stewart said with a relieved smile.

"Call me Sam."

"Ok." Then, taking me completely by surprised, Stewart wrapped his arms around my middle before running after the other boys.

Terence resumed laughing. "Anyway, I really hope Flitwick lets us perform again. I'm already missing it."

"He is!" I ejaculated.

"_What?_" Terence said loudly.

"Shh! It's not official yet, but Justin overheard him. It sounds like we'll be performing at the last two tasks!"

"No way!" Terence gasped. "Fantastic!"

We grinned at each other, feeling euphoric. But the school bell put an abrupt end to our conversation, and I sprinted for Care of Magical Creatures as Terence ambled off for a free period.

February came in without much notice. I tucked into my porridge, my Potions book propped up in front of me. The Dreamless Sleep Draught had improved my sleeping habits tremendously, taking away the stress of the recurring nightmare that had plagued me for so long. I was skimming through the book to see if there might be any other potions that might help me.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Luna said happily as she dropped into the seat next to me.

"Is it?" I asked, looking up from my book with genuine surprise. But before Luna could respond, an overhead rustle caused the entire student body to glance upward for the incoming post.

Quite a few of the owls had red and silver packages tied to their legs, and I decided it must indeed be Valentine's Day. I returned to my porridge and textbook, as I wasn't expecting any mail that day.

No sooner had I lifted my spoon to my lips did a familiar-looking owl drop a letter next to my plate.

"Falcor?" I whispered, reaching out automatically to pet my family's owl. "What are you doing here?" I tugged the letter from Falco's leg; the owl spread his wings and took off immediately. "What, has she alienated you from me?" I called after him, but he didn't turn back. "Fine!" I spat, throwing down my spoon.

I tore open the letter and began to read.

_Samantha,_

_My holiday travels went very well. I thank you for your concern._

_Headmaster Dumbledore says you have been doing well in your class, particularly in Potions. I am pleased to know that you have found an area of academic strength that is of importance to the Wizarding world._

_Good luck on your upcoming exams._

_Your mother,_

_Cassandra Greyson_

I stared at the letter after I had finished writing, a terrible combination of bewilderment and anger welling inside me. My hands began to shake.

"What did she say?" Luna asked mildly.

"Nothing! And _everything,_" I said in a low whisper, afraid that I might start shouting if I spoke any louder. "Essentially, she just told me that my own interests are misplaced and that she is distancing herself from me without actually saying it outright."

"Really?" Luna said, her voice placid.

"She's taking her maiden name back! Look! And it took her two months to reply!" I thrust the letter to Luna, who scanned its contents.

"Oh my."

"Yeah," I huffed, folding my arms and pushing away my now-cold porridge.

"Why would she do that?"

"Probably because now I'm the only person left with any blood relation to Dad and she can't handle it. And by the sound of it, she's trying to stomp his influence out of me. She never liked that we would go flying together. It was our thing. And Potions was the only thing in my life she ever took an interest in."

"That sounds rather selfish."

"Selfish and jealous. Sounds about right. Damn Slytherins."

I had barely seated myself at the Ravenclaw table for lunch a week later when a very flustered Harry Potter launched himself from his seat at the Gryffindor table toward me.

"Sam, I need you," he said, heaving in each breath as though it were his last.

"Good lord, Harry, calm down. You look like hell. What's happened?"

I pulled him down into the seat next to me and gave him a goblet of water. He gulped it down without pause.

"So you know the golden egg I got from the first task?" said Harry, sounding somewhat less frantic.

I nodded.

"Well, it's supposed to be a clue for the second task, right?"

I nodded again.

"Er—well, I can't figure it out," Harry finished lamely, frowning. "Will you help me? I told Ron and Hermione that I already know what it means, and I really can't stand disappointing them. Please, Sam, you're all I've got left." He looked horrified at the thought of failure.

"Of course I'll help," I said easily. "What can I do?"

Harry looked immensely relieved, telling me that he would meet me outside of Ravenclaw Tower tonight at the last student curfew.

That night, I slipped silently out of the common room just as the clock chimed the hour I had agreed to meet Harry. I glided down the spiral staircase, fervently hoping Harry had gotten away from Gryffindor Tower without being spotted.

I stepped into the corridor, glancing around.

"Sam," came a whisper from my right.

"Harry, where are you?" I whispered back, turning toward where I had heard his voice.

"Don't shout," he said. And before I could ask why I would feel compelled to shout, Harry's head appeared next to me, seemingly unsupported by anything.

"Come on," he urged, opening his Invisibility Cloak and beckoning me to join him underneath it.

"This is too cool," I said with quiet excitement as I watched my body disappear beneath the Cloak. Harry chuckled appreciatively, and we made our way down the corridor to the prefect's bathroom.

"Pine fresh," Harry said, and the door swung open. "Cedric Diggory told me about this place. He said it's where he solved his egg."

I shut the door silently behind us before slipping out from underneath the Cloak to stare openly at the magnificence of the room before us. I strode around an enormous bathtub the size of a swimming pool, examining every angle of its elegance as I could manage.

"This is ridiculous," Harry breathed, setting the egg and a battered piece of parchment on the floor next to the tub with his Invisibility Cloak. I nodded in agreement, examining a painting of a sleeping mermaid.

Seized with an idea, I crossed over to where Harry was now crouching and playing with the different taps for the pool. I scooped up his golden egg.

"Go on, get in. I won't look," I said easily, examining the egg with interest. After a moment, I heard him wordlessly undress behind me and slip into the water. The bubbles were so thick that I hardly needed to divert my eyes, but I waited patiently and did not turn until I heard him speak.

"All right, I can tell you've got an idea. What is it?" Harry said, reaching up for the egg. I handed it to him with a smile.

"Well, let's start off simple. What happens when you open the egg?" I asked, seating myself on a towel and kicking off my shoes and socks before dipping my feet into the water.

"It screams like a banshee," Harry said shortly, frowning at the egg.

"That's attractive," I said sarcastically. Harry snorted. "And I presume it is indecipherable?" He nodded. "Well then, Cedric must have found a way of making the egg's meaning clear by using something in this bathroom. If not, he wouldn't have told you to come here. So what is in a bathroom that you can't find anywhere else in the castle?"

"Er—water," Harry said after a moment. "Lots of it."

"Yes," I said, snatching the egg from Harry. "So water must be a vital part of this egg's function. But how?"

Harry continued to frown in concentration, and I couldn't help but grin.

"No fair!" he complained. "I can tell you know the answer!"

I laughed, twirling the egg in my hand. "Life's not fair, my friend." Then, before Harry could react, I reached over and shoved his head under the water with one hand and dropped the egg to settle in between my feet, also under the water. I cracked the egg open and Harry, getting the idea, did not resurface.

After a few long moments, Harry's head broke the surface; he was gasping for air, and an enlightened expression on his face. I shut the egg and brought it back to the edge.

"Hold on, I need to hear it again," he said, seizing the egg and resuming his underwater crouch. After a couple more times, Harry had it memorized.

"So?" I prompted, and Harry repeated the egg's message to me:

_Come seek us where our voices sound,_

_We cannot sing above the ground,_

_And while you're searching, ponder this:_

_We've taken what you'll sorely miss,_

_An hour long you'll have to look,_

_And to recover what we've took,_

_But past an hour—the prospect's black,_

_Too late, it's gone, it won't come back._

"Oh wow," I breathed, staring at Harry.

"They're going to take something of mine? But…who would do that? And how?" Harry questioned.

"It doesn't matter," I said, snapping out of my thoughtful silence. "What you need to focus on is how to get it back."

We lapsed into our own thoughts, glancing around the room for ideas. After some time, our eyes fell on the portrait of the mermaid. "The Black Lake," we whispered together.

"But…" Harry started. "How am I supposed to breathe underwater? For an hour!"

I could tell he was starting to panic. I put a reassuring hand on his shoulder as I lifted myself from the floor.

"Dry yourself and get dressed. I need to think," I said, crossing back over to the painting of the sleeping mermaid. I heard Harry pull himself out of the bath behind me. I began to pace, thinking very rapidly. I recalled several ways of breathing underwater from my travels, all of which were far too advanced. I frowned, silently urging my memory to produce something of value. I bit my lip, my frown increasing. There had to be something…

"Got it!" I cried, whirling on the spot. Harry hastily pulled his shirt over his head. "Sorry," I added.

Harry shrugged. "What is it?"

I grinned conspiratorially. "Gillyweed."

"What?" Harry asked, toweling his hair dry as I strode back over to him.

"It's a plant. It will alter your biology a bit to give you gills and webbed fingers and toes. It'll hurt a little, but it's the best chance you've got," I said in an excited rush, making my way over to the door.

Harry nodded slowly. "Where do we get some?"

"The Potions storeroom," I said easily, my hand on the door handle.

Harry was gawking at me.

"You want to steal from Snape's stores?" he said, eyes wide.

"We could try asking nicely first if you think that's a better idea," I said, rolling my eyes. Harry scoffed at the thought. Then, slowly, Harry's lips twitched up into a smile to match mine. He threw the Cloak over us as I opened the door.


	11. Chapter Ten: The Invisible Woman

**Chapter Ten: The Invisible Woman**

Harry tapped the battered piece of parchment with his wand and muttered under his breath, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." I watched in amazement as the whole of Hogwarts appeared as a map on the parchment. Squinting as we walked, Harry scanned the map for Snape's storage room.

"Oh!" Harry whispered as we made our way down a set of stairs. I bent closer, spotting the place where Harry was looking. There was someone already inside Snape's office, but it wasn't the Potions master. A label with the name Bartemius Crouch was stamped, unmoving, on the office outline.

"What is he doing here?" Harry whispered. Then, "Oof!"

I felt my leg go past where the next stair should have been. Harry was clearly experiencing the same sensation, because a moment later we found ourselves twisting and flailing ridiculously. I somehow found myself facing the way we had come, flinging my arms out to keep from falling. Harry did the same, and with the handrails out of reach, we found ourselves gripping each other in a desperate endeavor to stay upright.

The egg and the map weren't quite as lucky. The egg bounced heavily down the stairs, bursting open and wailing ceaselessly to the empty corridor. The map fluttered down several stairs, just outside arms length. Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak more securely over us as I made to draw my wand to summon them back.

A fierce cry sounded from around the corner. "PEEVES!"

Harry and I froze as Filch came limping furiously toward us.

Filch ranted and raved loudly about having Peeves expelled from the castle before noticing the egg. I twisted silently on the spot to see Filch at the bottom of the stairs as he lifted and shut the egg. The wailing ceased, and I could feel Harry stop breathing; his heart was hammering against our firmly-pressed chests.

Sick with apprehension and utter helplessness, Harry and I stood there, gripping each other tightly as Filch climbed the staircase in search of a nonexistent poltergeist.

"Filch? What's going on?" Snape appeared from around the corner looking furious.

I bit back a groan, hanging my head with defeat as Snape climbed the staircase to join the caretaker just a few steps below where Harry and I were hiding. My breathing was uneven as I listened to them speaking simultaneously about the situation. I stiffened as Snape mentioned that he noticed his office had been broken into. I glanced up at Harry, who had shut his eyes tightly, clearly wishing he were somewhere, anywhere else.

When I looked back around at the two arguing men, Snape was staring straight at us, saying they ought to search for intruders. My mouth went dry as I stared into those dark eyes that seemed to see straight through the Invisibility Cloak. But a moment later, Snape had moved his gaze to the corridor below where the measured rhythm of a wooden leg was now emanating.

Snape stopped talking very abruptly as Moody limped into sight.

"Pajama party, is it?" he growled.

His magical eye traveled over Snape and Filch to where Harry and I stood, wrapped in a ridiculous embrace. Moody's jaw dropped in surprise for a brief moment as our eyes connected, and I realized with a jolt that his magical eye could see through the cloak. I thought the charade was through, but Moody swiftly sobered himself and addressed Snape's concern about his office; I heaved a silent sigh of relief.

Snape rattled on about students stealing Potions ingredients from his private stores—Harry and I glanced guiltily at each other—and Moody did little but irritate Snape with subtle accusations. I frowned, glancing at Snape, who looked as though he were using immeasurable amounts of self-control.

I was pulled out of the conversation and back into reality when Harry suddenly lifted and waved his arms frantically, mouthing something. I turned back around to see an expression of comprehension dawning on the Potion master's face.

"Accio Parchment!" Moody cried, and I felt Harry relax. I saw the map soaring past Snape's hands and into Moody's. "My mistake. It's mine."

But Snape wasn't buying it. "Potter," he said quietly.

I snapped my gaze back to Harry, mouthing "What did you do?" Harry had a look of pain mixed with resignation on his face as he shook his head at me.

I turned back around to find Snape staring back at us yet again as though he could suddenly see us properly. I felt my breath catch in my throat as he stretched out his arms and began moving up the stairs. He was so close now. Too close…

I wrapped an arm around Harry's waist and bent him backward. He put a hand down on the stair behind him, and together we leaned as far away as we could from Snape's outstretched fingers.

"There's nothing there, Snape! But I'll be happy to tell the headmaster how quickly your mind jumped to Harry Potter!"

Snape turned to look at Moody, his hand so close to the small of my back that I thought he would surely feel the Invisibility Cloak. The moment lingered in the air as Harry and I gripped each other, waiting hopelessly for the moment that was sure to follow.

But then, just when I thought the end had come, Snape lowered his hands.

I felt myself flood with relief as Snape swept down the stairs, still exchanging angered words with Moody. But I wasn't listening. The next thing I knew Snape and Filch had disappeared, and Moody had climbed the stairs to meet us, golden egg and map in hand.

"Close shave, Potter. Evans," he muttered. I would have laughed if we weren't still in the presence of a professor.

I righted myself, pulling Harry with me, and reached out to grip the distant handrail. I heaved myself out of the trick stair with a mighty pull, the Invisibility Cloak sliding off of me. I reached again, feeling Harry's invisible hand grasp my own, and I yanked him free. He slid out from under the Cloak and gazed hesitantly at Moody.

"What is this thing?" Moody asked, holding up the map.

"Map of Hogwarts," Harry said honestly as Moody's magical eye scanned the parchment excitedly.

"Did you happen to see who broke into Snape's office?"

"It was Mr. Crouch," I replied, stretching my leg, which had stiffened considerably during its time in the trick stair. Moody's eye was whizzing frantically over the map in surprise. "Seems odd that he hasn't been around for the Tournament, but managed to get up here in the middle of the night to sneak around some professor's private stores." I grimaced as my leg twitched involuntarily.

"Well, Barty Crouch was the best at catching Dark wizards," Moody said, sounding distracted by his intense concentration on the map.

"That's nice, but that doesn't explain why he was in Snape's office," I said, testing to see if my leg would hold my weight.

"Professor Moody?" Harry interrupted gently. "Do you think this could have anything to do with what's been happening?"

"Like what?" Moody snapped.

"Er—I don't know. Odd stuff's been happening though, don't you think? Like at the World Cup—"

"The Dark Mark and the Death Eaters," I interjected smoothly. Harry nodded fervently.

Both of Moody's eyes widened. "You're sharp, the two of you." He paused, considering, then added, speaking as though only to himself, "If there's one thing I hate, it's a Death Eater who walked free."

Harry and I stared at him. But before I could properly consider Moody's unspoken accusation, Moody spoke, holding up the map.

"Can I borrow this?"

"Oh!" Harry exclaimed. "Yeah, ok."

"Good boy." And with that Moody handed Harry his golden egg and escorted us to the top of the staircase. It was there that he turned to face us again.

"Have either of you considered a career as an Auror?"

Harry and I glanced at each other, taken aback.

"Something to consider. Good night, you two." And he disappeared in the opposite direction from where we were headed.

Harry and I flung the Invisibility Cloak over us once again, and we set off to Ravenclaw Tower in silence.

"We'll have to snatch some gillyweed another time," I said as we neared the entrance to the tower.

"Yeah," Harry said, sounding distracted.

"It sounds like Snape has an eye on you. Maybe it would be better if I went and got it so you don't get in trouble. No, I insist," I added, seeing the dismissive look on Harry's face.

"Well, take the Cloak at least. Tomorrow at breakfast. You can shove it in your bag."

"Sounds good. Well, good night, Harry," I said, stepping out from underneath the Cloak.

"Good night, Sam. Sorry for almost getting you in trouble. And thank you so much for everything."

I grinned. "Always a pleasure." And Harry disappeared.

Harry surreptitiously slipped his Invisibility Cloak into my bag the next morning when I feigned a conversation with Hermione over the Banishment Charm we were learning in class. Ron looked thoroughly confused, but sobered up when Hermione stamped discreetly on his foot. Harry grinned and mouthed a thank you as I moved back to the Ravenclaw table. Hermione immediately leaned forward to ask Harry what was going on.

When lunch rolled around, I ate quickly, checking to make sure that both Professors Moody and Snape were at the staff table, and that the former was definitely _not_ scanning Harry's map of Hogwarts. I slipped out of the Great Hall, ducked into an empty corridor to dawn the Cloak, and strode purposefully to the dungeons. They were entirely empty of students, so I easily navigated my way through the dungeons to Snape's private storage room. With a whispered _Alohamora_, I stepped inside.

"Whoa," I whispered, staring around at the wide variety of Potions ingredients at my disposal. I shut the door and found myself immediately immersed in reading the labels closest to me. I ran one finger against a shelf as I walked the length of the storage room, quivering in excitement.

Dad had always been dreadful at Potions, and so my mother had stepped in to teach me what she called "a subtle science and exact art." The only time my mother and I every spoke was over a bubbling cauldron. She never involved herself with my education aside from that, except to test me ruthlessly on what I had learned.

I had accepted her lessons grudgingly at first, but found myself undeniably intrigued by the subject. Talent at Potions was perhaps the only thing I had inherited from my mother.

I scanned the shelves, forcing myself to focus on the plant I had come here for. Pleased when I finally figured out the organizational system Snape was using, I plucked a small container of gillyweed from its spot in the room and turned to exit.

"You know what it means as well as I do, Severus!" a terrified voice cried as the door to the storage room flung open to reveal a shaking Karkaroff and a statue-like Snape.

I ducked automatically behind the ladder next to me as Snape brushed closely past to return one of his Potions ingredients to its rightful spot. Karkaroff followed, standing uncomfortably close to Snape as he pressed his point. I slid out to the other side of the ladder, not wanting either one of them to accidentally bump into me.

"Look at it! It's worse now!" Karkaroff hissed, pulling his left sleeve up violently.

I couldn't help myself; instead of dashing for the door as I ought to have, I doubled back to see what Karkaroff was showing the Potions master.

Etched on the skin of his left forearm was a faded, but still moving tattoo of…I jolted in shock: it was the Dark Mark.

"You can't pretend you haven't noticed yours," Karkaroff said, sounding hysterical. I inhaled suddenly in surprise. Karkaroff didn't appear to notice, but Snape's eyes swept the storeroom at the sound. I hurried out the open door, not daring to look back.

I collapsed against a column in an empty corridor, pulling the Cloak off me and shoving it unceremoniously into my bag. The school bell rang, and I could hear students moving to their next classes. I straightened, striding away from the dungeons, trying to forget what I had seen.

"Dumbledore trusts him," I whispered to myself. "There has to be a reason."

I found Harry in the library the day before the Second Task and handed him the gillyweed and his Cloak wordlessly. He grinned, looking relieved.

"Hey, Evans! Flitwick wants you," said a boy with flaming red hair who had appeared from behind a bookshelf. "And Hermione, McGonagall's looking for you," said the boy he was with. They were identical twins and clearly related to Ron Weasley. I wondered just how many siblings the boy had…

Hermione glanced at me curiously. I shrugged.

"Must be some sort of smart-kids-only thing," Ron muttered, shutting his library book with a snap and settling back into the chair.

"Good luck tomorrow, Harry," I said with a wink, and Hermione and I left the library.

"Do you know what this is about?" Hermione asked, hitching her bag up on her shoulder.

"No idea."

"Miss Granger, Miss Evans," said a stern voice as we stepped into the corridor. We turned to find Professors McGonagall and Flitwick waiting for us. "This way, please."

"Thanks for helping Harry out with that—er—assignment," Hermione said as we walked. I flashed her a grin, catching onto her line of thought.

"You're welcome," I said sincerely. She smiled back.

"Miss Evans," Flitwick squeaked in interruption. "I was wondering whether you and your fellow band members might consider performing at the third task."

I suppressed the urge to shout a triumphant, "_Yes!_" and instead responded with, "We'd love to!"

"Much of the third task won't be able to be viewed by the audience, so I'd like to have _The Four Houses_ perform during that time. Would that work?"

"Absolutely," I replied, nodding excitedly. "I'll call the boys together to start up rehearsals again as soon as possible."

"Wonderful!" squeaked Flitwick as we came up on the entrance to Dumbledore's office. We knocked on the door at the top of the stairs and were invited inside.

"Cho!" I called when the door swung open to reveal the expansive office. Cho was sitting in one of four chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk. Another of the chairs was filled by a young girl who, judging by her appearance, looked to be related to Fleur Delacour.

"Hey!" she replied, twisting around in her seat as Hermione and I entered. We seated ourselves in the remaining two seats and looked up at Dumbledore expectantly.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice," Dumbledore said kindly. "Now, please listen carefully, as I am about to tell you about the tournament's second task."

"But sir, why tell us? Won't we just see it tomorrow?" Cho asked abruptly. Dumbledore smiled pleasantly in response.

"I'm afraid you won't. You see, tomorrow, the four champions will have to reclaim that which means the most to them from the bottom of the Black Lake."

"Oh," I breathed, catching on. Dumbledore nodded encouragingly at me, and I spoke up. "It's us. We're going to be at the bottom of the lake."

"What?" Cho said, staring around at all of us.

"Each one of you is to be put in a bewitched sleep until your respective champion comes to rescue you."

"Oh my," Hermione said, blushing furiously as she glanced around at the four of us and deducted to whom each of us belonged. I followed her gaze.

The girl I didn't know must be Fleur's, of course. Cho had to be Cedric's, seeing as they had been dating since the Yule Ball. I had assumed Hermione would be Harry's, but when I realized I had no connection to Viktor Krum, the last champion, and Hermione had gone to the Yule Ball with him, Hermione must be Krum's to rescue.

Understanding now why Hermione was turning violent shades of red, I shifted in my seat and ducked my head. I couldn't seem to suppress the smile that made its way across my face. _I was what Harry Potter would sorely miss._

I looked back up at Dumbledore, who was smiling gently at us as he raised his wand. "You won't feel a thing," he promised. And everything went black.

I gasped as my head broke the surface. I blinked rapidly, treading water instinctively as I registered where I was.

"Sam, help me with her!" Harry's voice sounded close. I twisted to find Harry struggling with the girl from Dumbledore's office who clearly couldn't swim. I swam around to the girl's other side, and Harry and I each lifted one of her arms around our respective shoulders, kicking for the shoreline.

The crowd was cheering loudly as Harry and I found our feet on solid ground. Hermione and Ron began attacking Harry with towels, and Fleur scooped up who I soon discovered to be her little sister and held her close. I reached for a towel and took a hesitant step away from the people surrounding me.

"Oh, no you don't!" Ron cried, grabbing my arm. I immediately thought that he would be upset that it hadn't been him at the bottom of the lake, seeing as he was Harry's best friend. I mentally prepared myself.

"Oh, you, uh—" I said through chattering teeth, intending to argue that I had no control over being what Harry would miss the most, when I found myself being tightly embraced.

Ron released me after a long moment, but not before I had shaken off my surprise. I stared wide-eyed at him as he grinned back at me.

"Welcome to the group," he said sincerely, and I couldn't help but return his infectious smile.

Hermione hugged me as well before being pulled off to the side by Viktor Krum. Harry stepped forward next, looking both surprised and content. We embraced each other for a long time, dissolving into a fit of giggles by the end. It didn't make sense: we were just happy to be alive.


	12. Chapter Eleven: April Showers Bring

**Chapter Eleven: April Showers**

I awoke with a yelp as a stream of cold water hit my face. I jumped spectacularly out of my bed, wand in hand, blinking rapidly to see who had doused me.

"You were yelling in your sleep," Luna said calmly, stowing away her wand.

The other fourth year girls were huddled together behind Luna, clearly having summoned her here to wake me. I ducked my head.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "Forgot to take my sleeping potion."

I turned away from the girls who were watching me with hesitant eyes and began to change in silence. I was digging around in my trunk for a pair of socks when Luna urged me to hurry up.

"Why?" I said. "It's Saturday. We're not in a rush." Five minutes later, I was shaking off Luna's grip from my arm. "Seriously, Luna, why are you so eager to get to the Great Hall?"

She answered my question by taking my hand in hers and skipping down the marble staircase, whistling happily. I couldn't help but smile a little at her complete obliviousness to the odd stares we were getting as we crossed the threshold into the Hall.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SAM!"

Harry, Hermione, Ron, Seamus, Justin, Terence, Stewart, and Luna were huddled just off to the side of the entrance, each beaming brightly at me. Harry was clutching his Firebolt, Hermione was holding a book, Ron was spinning a Quaffle on one finger, Seamus, Justin, and Terence were all holding something flat and round I couldn't quite place, Stewart was gripping a stack of toast in one hand and a broomstick in the other—my broomstick, I realized suddenly—and Luna was applauding merrily by herself.

"Luna," I said, a hint of amused exasperation in my voice. "What did you do?"

"Here," Stewart said, holding out the toast.

Seamus, Justin, and Terence stepped forward together as I munched on the toast.

"Surprise," they said together, holding out their gift. I stopped chewing very suddenly when I realized what it was.

In their hands was an album labeled _The Four Houses' LIVE! _I swallowed hastily, looking up at the boys in shock.

"It was being recorded?" I gasped. The boys nodded, smiling. I looked back down at the album where the four of us were in the midst of performing at the Yule Ball, looking ecstatic. "Thank you!" I said, grinning, and the four of us joined in on a group hug, laughing happily.

"Enjoy!" they said before returning to their respective House tables for breakfast, each wishing me a last round of '_happy birthday!_'s.

"Here!" Luna said excitedly, bounding into my field of vision. She was holding up an odd looking bracelet: it appeared to be long blades of grass woven into each other with tiny purple flowers that kept blooming and wilting over and over again. But when she dropped it in my hand, it didn't feel to be the texture of grass. The bracelet was so lightweight that I hardly noticed it at all. It also radiated a ring of gentle heat around it that warmed the palm of my hand nicely.

"Wow," I breathed. "Thanks, Luna!" I put it on, and the bracelet automatically resized itself to fit my wrist. "This is beautiful!"

"It'll keep away the nargles," she said seriously. Ron sniggered. Hermione stamped on his foot. I ignored all this and embraced my friend tightly.

"Thank you," I said into her ear.

"You're welcome!" Luna said before bounding off to the Ravenclaw table for breakfast.

"Is it our turn yet?" Ron asked impatiently. Hermione glared at him before she stepped forward to present the book she was holding.

"Happy birthday, Sam. This is from all of us" she said with a smile.

I took the book, recognizing it immediately. "Sweet!" I exclaimed, riffling immediately through the pages of _Quidditch Through the Ages._ "I've always wanted this book! Thanks!"

"And speaking of Quidditch," Ron said, chucking the Quaffle at me. "Let's go play!"

I caught the Quaffle with a laugh, and the five of us trekked happily out of the castle.

"Sam, can I have a go on your broom?" Stewart asked hesitantly, still clutching it in his hands.

"Sure! Race you to the pitch!" I said gleefully, snagging Harry's Firebolt out of his hand and shooting into the air. Stewart clambered onto my Nimbus and tore after me.

Stewart and I flew over to the Quidditch pitch, giggling as we tagged each other back and forth along the way. We continued horsing around in the air until Harry, Ron, and Hermione caught up.

"The weather's not so bad," Ron was commenting as Stewart and I flew down to meet them. "A little cloud cover, you know, perfect spring conditions. Good day for a birthday, too, eh Sam?"

"You make it sound like I haven't had the same birthday for fifteen years, Ron," I said jokingly as I handed Harry his broom.

"So, two on two, Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw?" Harry suggested. "We brought out school brooms for Ron and Stewart."

"You're on," I said as Stewart handed me my Nimbus a little reluctantly.

"Hermione, are you sure you don't want to join?" Ron asked kindly. But she immediately shook her head.

"I'll keep my feet on the ground thanks. I'll hold your stuff for you, if you like, Sam," she offered, and I handed her the book and album without further persuasion. Then I turned on the spot, took Stewart by the elbow, and strode purposefully away toward one side of the pitch.

"You seem decent with a broom," I commented, tossing the Quaffle up and down repeatedly. "You ready to face the best Seeker in the school and his best friend?"

Stewart nodded eagerly.

"I wish I had a better broom though," he said, staring at the school broom he was now holding. "I have the new Cleansweep at home, but first years aren't allowed to bring their own."

"That's all right," I said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Ron's on one, too. That should balance things out. You ready?"

Stewart nodded defiantly, mounting his broom. And together, we kicked off into the air.

We flew over to meet with the Gryffindors in the center of the pitch. Hermione was standing in the middle and I tossed her the Quaffle to start us off.

"Are both sides ready?" she asked. We nodded. "I'll let out the practice Snitch in a bit. Have you chosen Seekers?"

Ron clapped Harry on the back while Stewart and I glanced at each other.

"You have a better chance of catching up to that Firebolt than I do," Stewart said, and I nodded in agreement.

"All right, here we go!" Hermione cried, throwing the Quaffle into the air with all her might.

Stewart surprised us by snatching the Quaffle first and tearing toward the goal posts. Ron took off after him, which I was grateful for; it was better that we were matched according to broomstick. Stewart hurled the Quaffle over to me, and I shot out a hand to grab it, but Harry intercepted and shot off in the opposite direction. I followed, catching up just as he passed to Ron, who immediately hurled the Quaffle through one of the goal posts.

"Yes!" Ron cried, throwing an arm victoriously.

"Gryffindor 10, Ravenclaw 0," Hermione called up from the center of the pitch where she had settled down on the grass.

Stewart looked put out, but I threw him a couple encouraging remarks as he went to retrieve the Quaffle, and he returned looking much more competitive. He fired a quick pass to me, and I soared toward the other end of the pitch. Just as Harry reached out for a steal, I passed to Stewart, who caught it, ducked under Ron, and return passed. Harry was marking me very closely, so I swung around and kicked the Quaffle back to Stewart, who snagged it and scored.

"Gryffindor 10, Ravenclaw 10," Hermione called to a small smattering of applause; several students had come over to watch.

We continued for another half an hour or so before Hermione let out the Snitch. Harry and I saw it at the same time and shot toward the winged ball.

"Get it, Sam!" Stewart called out; he and Ron had stopped playing to watch.

Harry and I were neck and neck, hands outstretched. The Snitch was careening wildly, making it particularly difficult to keep in plain sight. It swooped unexpectedly under us, and Harry and I each made a hairpin turn that ended in a dive. The wind was whistling loudly in my ears as the ground came up to meet us. I reached out my hand, fingers itching for the Snitch…

"Got it!" Harry cried while I swore loudly.

Ron and Hermione were cheering excitedly, and Stewart clapped respectfully for their victory.

"Not bad, Sam," Harry was saying as we touched back to the ground. "You were much more of a challenge than any of the other Seekers we have at Hogwarts."

"Thanks, Harry!" I said, ruffling his hair. "Good game, Ron," I said.

"And you. Stewart, you're a little too good for a first year."

Stewart flushed at his words. "Thanks," he mumbled. "I'm thinking of trying out next year."

"We'll try out together," I told him, and he looked up at me with a broad smile.

"Thanks for this, guys," I said to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Stewart as we trudged tiredly back up to the castle. "I really needed this."

"Any time," Ron said, running a hand through his windswept hair. The three Gryffindors made for the marble staircase.

"Where are you going?" Stewart asked when I didn't follow. The trio turned around at his words.

"There's something I need to work on. You guys go ahead," I said, waving the Gryffindors away; they continued up the staircase. "Would you like to help me?" I asked Stewart.

"Sure!" Stewart said eagerly. "With what?"

"I need to go down to the dungeons to make a potion. It'll take about an hour," I told him, and the two of us bypassed the staircase for the entrance to the dungeons.

"What sort of potion?"

"A Dreamless Sleep Potion. Have you heard of it?"

Stewart shook his head.

"Well, you'll see," I said as we strode into Snape's empty classroom. I walked over to one of the cabinets to extract my cauldron and my potion-making kit that was tucked inside. I crossed over to one of the tables, lit a fire with my wand, and settled the cauldron over it. I set my book, album, and broomstick off to the side and opened my potion-making kit. In one of the pockets, I had written down the directions for making the sleeping potion; I pulled this out, along with the proper ingredients. I walked Stewart through each step, even asking him to help me with preparing some of the ingredients. He seemed a little hesitant at first, as though he was afraid of making a mistake, but I reassured him that he was doing just fine.

"I don't understand why they make distinctions between slicing and dicing and chopping and all that. It's all going in the cauldron regardless, so why does it matter?" Stewart asked while he stirred.

"It's because the difference in the way it's prepared can alter the properties of the ingredient," I replied, gesturing for Stewart to stop stirring and let the potion stand. "It might not make sense from the outside, but with those changes in its properties, the way it interacts with other ingredients can change, too. So if you don't do it right, two ingredients can interact in a way that can turn the final product into something completely different, or ruin it entirely."

"So, when McCormick melted his cauldron at the start of term, it wasn't necessarily because he put the ingredients in the wrong order, but because he didn't prepare them properly?" Stewart asked, sounding intrigued.

I nodded. "It's entirely possible. But I'm sure Professor Snape explained all this to you."

Stewart glanced up to the ceiling, his eyes moving as though they were scanning his eyelids for information.

"Actually, I believe his exact words were 'Read the directions, you stupid boy, or you'll end up with more than just your shoes seared to the dungeon floor.'"

I laughed. "The cauldron cemented his shoes to the floor?"

Stewart nodded, chuckling.

"Well, that's one way to say it," I said, my laughter subsiding as my potion flared suddenly and settled into the perfect shade of purple. "There we go." I poured the potion into a container, sealed it, and began cleaning up after myself.

"I made something for you," Stewart said suddenly as I replaced my cauldron in the appropriate cabinet. "For your birthday."

He was holding out a card, looking embarrassed. I smiled graciously, accepting the card and opening it immediately.

There, on the inside of the parchment, was a hand drawn sketch of the two of us riding around on broomsticks, smiling. We zoomed in and out of the boundaries of the card, tossing a Quaffle back and forth, waving periodically to whomever was looking at the card.

"It's not very good," Stewart said, staring at his feet.

"Stewart," I said, rolling my eyes at his words, "this is brilliant! I had no idea you could draw!" Stewart shuffled awkwardly on the spot, and so I stepped forward and hugged him. "Seriously, I love it."

"Really?" he asked as I stepped away.

I looked him straight in the eye. "Yes," I said with all the sincerity I had in me. Stewart beamed.

"Let's get out of here," I said, tucking the card into _Quidditch Through the Ages_ and hitching my broom on my shoulder. Stewart nodded, still smiling, and we left the classroom.

"What's this? Two lowly little Ravenclaws sneaking around in Slytherin territory?" came a drawling voice from down the corridor.

Stewart immediately stopped in his tracks, but I tugged on his arm to keep him moving. "Keep moving, or they'll think you're frightened of them."

"But—"

"Oh, I see. Weren't able to make any friends in your own year, Evans?" sneered Draco Malfoy. "What a shame." Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy guffawed and shrieked with laughter. "I'm sure Ackerley here is wetting his pants at the thought of being with the oh-so-talented Samantha Evans!" His voice was dripping with sarcasm, but I fought back my retort and made to pass by them, making sure that Stewart was not within arms length of them.

"What's this?" Pansy cried, and I felt my book being tugged from my grasp. "_Quidditch Through the Ages_? This explains the broomstick. Is the Ravenclaw trying to understand something that's not strictly academic? What is the world coming to!"

"Yeah, Evans, where's the Potions book you're always lugging around?" Draco said, smirking.

"I'm flattered you noticed," I snapped, snatching my book back. To my horror, Stewart's card fell out of the book and landed on the ground between us, and I was juggling too many things in my arms now to grab it. I suppressed a groan as Pansy held it up for her fellow Slytherins to see.

"How _adorable_!" she cooed sarcastically. "_To Sam, from Stewart._ Evans has an admirer!"

"Give it back," Stewart piped up suddenly, turning several shades of red at once.

Pansy shrieked with laughter again, cackling as she tucked the card back into my book. "Was your old man not good enough for you that you had to go and _replace_ him with a younger model?"

There was a clatter of noise as I dropped everything I was holding—I silently congratulated myself for choosing an unbreakable container for my potion, or the contents would have drenched everyone in the vicinity—and I backed Pansy roughly against the wall, my wand at her throat, my veins raging with livid adrenaline.

"HOW DARE YOU!" I bellowed into her face, my wand exploding with silver sparks; a look of pure, undisguised fear had settled on Pansy's face. "Take it back, you spineless waste of space!"

I saw him move from the corner of my eye, but I didn't have time to react as Goyle put a heavy hand on my shoulder and hurled me across the corridor. I thought I heard Draco make a noise in protest, but before I could register it, I slammed into the dungeon wall, the back of my head colliding with the wall so violently that stars erupted in front of my eyes as I slid to the floor in an undignified heap.

"Come on, Draco," I heard Pansy say, the fear apparent in her trembling voice. "Let's get out of here." I heard their footsteps dying away into a terrible, ringing silence.

"Sam?" came a scared and hesitant voice. "Sam, can you hear me?"

I gurgled a response, too dazed to focus in on what Stewart was saying. My vision was blurred, and pain was shooting in mind numbing waves through my body. I couldn't move…

"Sam!" Stewart cried. "Sam! Oh, sir, please help. Professor, she's hurt!"

I heard another set of footsteps approach rapidly, and another hazy face swam into view. There was a hand on my forehead; I felt my eyelids being pulled back as a voice spoke.

"Concussion. She needs to be taken to the hospital wing. Ackerley, get her things," said a gruff voice by my ear. I distantly registered that the voice belonged to Professor Moody before I felt my body being levitated into the air.

"Sam? Can you hear us?" came a dreamy voice. Luna's face swam into view above mine, and I realized I was lying down. I made to sit up, but Luna pushed me gently back down into the pillows. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Don't let her move. She needs to stay right where she is." I saw Madam Pomfrey appear in the corner of my vision for a moment before disappearing.

It all came back to me in a sudden rush and I swore under my breath.

"Is Stewart all right?" I managed to say, wincing as Madam Pomfrey returned, tilting my head to the side and placing probing fingers on the back of my skull.

"I'm here," Stewart said, walking into my field of vision.

"They didn't go after you?" I asked, flinching away as Madam Pomfrey touched a particularly tender spot.

"No, they ran off after you—"

"What happened?" came a gruff voice from nearby. I couldn't see him, but I knew Moody was there.

"Well, Sam and I were coming out of the Potions classroom when it happened. There were four Slytherins. I don't know their names, but I recognized them. And they started teasing and provoking us. Sam said to keep walking and ignore them, but they took her book, and…" Stewart trailed off uncertainly.

"Sir," I said, picking up where Stewart left off. "Pansy Parkinson insinuated that I murdered my father because he wasn't good enough for me, and that I was looking for a new man in my life to replace him with, referring to Stewart. I drew my wand on her and pushed her back against the wall when Gregory Goyle threw me bodily across the corridor. That's where I hit my head."

There was a shocking silence; I felt Pomfrey's hands fall still on the back of my head.

"Is that what she said?" Moody grunted to himself. I saw Stewart nod. "Who were the other two Slytherins?"

I hesitated.

"Evans," Moody said threateningly.

"Vincent Crabbe and…Draco Malfoy."

"Draco Malfoy? You mean the boy who was just in here?" Luna said lightly.

"What?" I said, lifting my head only to have it pressed back into the pillow by Madam Pomfrey. "He was in here? Just now?"

Luna nodded. "He just walked in, stared at you for a minute, and left as soon as you sat up."

"Right," I mumbled. I saw a glow of light in the corner of my eye, and Pomfrey removed her hands.

"There you are, Miss Evans. How does that feel?" she asked.

"Just a little throbbing, but much better," I said, turning back to face her.

"Excellent. Just don't do anything too strenuous for a day or two and you'll be good as new."

I nodded and sat up.

"By the way, a letter came for you this morning at breakfast, but you weren't there," Luna said, dropping an envelope on my lap that said _Samantha Evans, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_ on it.

"Who's it from?" Stewart asked.

"My mother," I said, staring at the envelope in surprise.

"How can you tell?" he asked as I tore the letter open.

"She's the only one who calls me Samantha…" I said, my voice trailing off as I read:

_Samantha,_

_Professor Moody stopped by yesterday to tell me about the Auror's decision to place a protection detail at our residence. They need permission from both of us to begin a thorough sweep of the house for anything unusual. Please inform him and the headmaster of your approval._

_Your mother,_

_Cassandra Greyson_

"Protection detail?" I said aloud, confused.

"Yes," Moody growled, and this time I was able to turn and face him. "Let's go up to Dumbledore's office; the Aurors ought to be here shortly to discuss it."

I nodded and stood up, gathering my broom, book, and album.

"I can take that back to Ravenclaw Tower if you want, Sam," Stewart offered kindly.

"Thanks," I said, transferring my belongings to him. "I'll see you two later."

I followed Moody to Dumbledore's office, rereading my mother's letter. After getting over the initial confusion, I realized two very important things: first, that Mother anticipated my approval without considering that I might feel differently and two, that she had forgotten about my birthday.


	13. Chapter Twelve: Lyric Fire

**Chapter Twelve: Lyric Fire**

"Ah, Miss Evans," Dumbledore greeted warmly when we showed up a minute later. "Please, have a seat. Would you like some tea?"

Tea, I thought to myself. The British solution to everything. This could not be good.

But I took the cup Dumbledore offered anyway, figuring it couldn't hurt. I settled into one of the seats, sipping quietly and waiting for whatever fate had in store. I noticed, this time, there was only one Auror present.

"Miss Evans," the Auror began importantly, "the Auror Office has decided to close your father's case and mark it as 'unsolved.'"

I nearly choked on my tea. "Excuse me?"

"There is no evidence that can convict anyone," the Auror said simply. "There is nothing more we can do."

"But, _someone murdered my father!_ You can't let them get away with that!" I cried.

"There's no way to know who did it, Evans," Moody growled. "The Death Eater, if that's what he was, cannot be tracked down if we don't know where to start."

I gawked at the Auror for a long time, wondering if the headmaster would be opposed to me dumping my tea on the man.

"I understand," I said finally, defeat filling my voice. I set the cup of tea on Dumbledore's desk. "Is that all?"

"Not quite," the Auror continued. "Your family may still be at risk. We are assigning a protection detail to your mother's residence in London. She has consented to the house being searched prior to your return from Hogwarts to ensure that you and your mother are as safe as possible. If you feel there is any threat to you at Hogwarts, we would like you to alert Professor Moody. Is that understood?"

I blanched. So that's why they wanted a protection detail. I had spent so much time thinking about my father's unsolved case that I had never once thought that I might still be in danger. I had never once considered that the Death Eater might want something more than just my father's demise and a go at my body, that he might still be after something.

"Is that understood, Miss Evans?" the Auror repeated. "Ms. Greyson wanted verbal acknowledgement."

"Ms. _What_?" I spat, irritated that others were now addressing my mother by her maiden name. "Verbal acknowledgement? What about verbal _consent_?"

"Have some more tea, Miss Evans," Dumbledore said kindly. I took my cup of tea back, taking a purposefully long swig to give myself time to calm down.

"Fine. There's your verbal acknowledgement. Anything else?" I said swiftly.

"Yes. We asked your mother to consider what should happen to you if she were to die before you turn seventeen. If she does not come up with a suitable replacement, the responsibility will default to your next of kin."

"I haven't got any—" I started to say, but the Auror interrupted.

"Your relation to your next of kin is your mother's aunt's—"

But I interrupted back. "Can we discuss that if it actually comes to pass?" I said angrily, knowing that it didn't matter who became my legal guardian; I wouldn't have any real connection to them.

"Of course," the Auror said with a small bow. A brief silence fell upon the room.

"Are we done now?" I asked, wanting very much to leave the room.

The Auror nodded.

"You may leave, Miss Evans. Thank you for your patience," Dumbledore said, taking the empty tea cup from my hands.

"Good day, sir," I replied. I turned on my heel and marched resolutely past Moody to the door.

It wasn't until I had gotten to the spiral staircase leading out of Dumbledore's office that I realized Moody was following me.

"You didn't catch a glimpse of the man's face?" he asked grimly when we reached the corridor and the office sealed itself.

"No," I said, hoping that was Moody's only question. It wasn't.

"Didn't recognize the voice or anything?"

"No. I didn't recognize anything. I had never met the man before, and I haven't since," I said firmly, feeling rather defensive.

"You're certain?" Moody pressed.

"_Yes,_" I said more loudly than I intended. "Don't you think I would have said something if I did? The man murdered my father! He raped me! Maybe it's a good thing I don't know who he is, because if I did, I'd cut off his manhood so he could never hurt me again!"

"Would you kill him?" Moody asked, a gleam in his eye.

I hesitated.

"I'm angry, not evil," I decided.

Moody considered this, then limped off, taking a swig from his hip flask. I glared after him, hating him for making me consider murder. I suddenly felt dirty. I grimaced at my own thoughts. He had seen Dark magic, and he knew what it could do to a person. He had seen how something so vile could ruin a life, could transform a good person into a monster. And I vowed to myself, on the spot, that I would never allow myself to be tempted by the Dark again.

###

I strode into the Great Hall after my last exam feeling rather accomplished. I was scanning the question sheet as I crossed over to the Ravenclaw table along with my fellow exam takers, eager to relax after such a hectic week. I hummed quietly to myself, prepping my voice for the performance that would take place at the third task this afternoon.

There was a rumble of laughter from the next table, and I looked up to find Harry sitting at the Gryffindor table amongst a sea of redheads. Professor McGonagall was there, whispering to Harry, who paled a bit at her words. He rose from his seat and made to leave, but not before I intercepted him and embraced him tightly.

"Kick ass, Harry," I said into his ear. He chuckled, and I could feel him relax against me, some of the color returning to his cheeks. I found myself smiling, happy that I could help in some way.

"You, too," he replied as we pulled apart. "I'm sorry I won't be able to see you perform."

I shrugged. "No worries. You just focus on winning, all right?"

"All right," Harry agreed, and we parted ways.

I sat down next to Stewart and Luna, the latter of whom was reading the latest edition of the Quibbler. I piled some food onto my plate and ate quickly; the band had to be at the task not long after the champions arrived. I barely had time to shovel some food in my mouth before there was a tap on my shoulder.

"Come on, Evans. Time to go." I found myself being tugged from my seat by a nervous-looking Seamus Finnegan. Stewart flashed me a thumbs-up for good luck as I was dragged away from the Ravenclaw table.

Justin hurried over to us, as did Terence, and the four of us made our way down to the Quidditch pitch. Our instruments were already there, tucked behind a decent sized stage right next to where the champions were huddled. I smiled to Harry as I lifted my guitar from its case.

Students were already beginning to trickle into the stadium, glancing around in awe at the impossibly high hedges that had been grown from the grass on the pitch for the task they were about to witness. The rest of the maze was hidden, but I could tell it would be intricate and expansive, considering the size of the stadium. The hedges had been planted just days after my birthday Quidditch match, preventing me from returning to do any more flying.

The four of us ran a quick sound check, going over some last minute things. And when we were confident that everything was working, we launched into a reprise of the last song we had performed at the Yule Ball. The flood of students entering the stadium began cheering as they realized who was playing, and I found myself smiling.

I strummed my way through the song, letting the music seep into my soul. If I couldn't be in the air, let me make music, I thought to myself, and I had the sudden revelation that everything else didn't seem so important when I had my guitar in hand. My smile widened and the image of my father's smiling face swam before my closed eyelids. The bad memories don't have to spoil the good ones, I told myself.

The band fell quiet as the third task was introduced by an enthusiastic Ludo Bagman. I cheered excitedly with Seamus as Harry's name was announced, and even joined in with Justin as Cedric was applauded for. The two boys entered the maze together and disappeared, followed shortly by the two remaining champions. I silently wished Harry good luck.

We struck up the next piece, grinning excitedly at each other as the crowd cheered loudly.

_The moonlight is seeping into my room now._

_It's eerie the way it glows, like it's haughty and proud._

_Its battle scars are merely an indication of how it simply cannot lie,_

_And the foggy look is just its collection of human sighs._

_And yet each person still tries_

_To change and hide_

_What simply cannot be disguised,_

_Try as one might._

_But the mirror will always be right._

A feeling of renewal was bubbling inside me. An energy was filling me up, causing me to open my eyes and connect with the crowd. I hadn't felt this alive in so long; the music felt electric in the air as we moved seamlessly from one song to another, each taking turns to showcase our talent and share the spotlight.

_We are at war with ourselves, because that's what it means to be human_

_Every day we beat down our childish souls for the faceless adult mask of true men_

_And women and others who don't fit into those ridiculous invisible boxes_

_What could we possibly be so ashamed of that we find reason to duck_

_Behind that cookie-cutter, expressionless facade of all work and no play?_

_Because Jack's out sitting in the rain wishing he had learned to pray_

_For something he could look back on and smile instead of feeling regret_

_Because when all is said and done, how many people will have done more than they've said?_


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Welcome to Hell

**Chapter Thirteen: Welcome to Hell**

Nearly an hour later, a bloodcurdling scream rang through the crowd mid-song. Everyone jumped, shaken from their states of contented listening as I flung out an arm to stop the band; Harry Potter had just landed in front of the maze clutching the Triwizard Cup and…

"NO," I shouted. I removed my guitar and leapt from the stage, rushing over to where Harry was crouched. He was sobbing over Cedric Diggory's dead body. I fell to my knees beside him as Dumbledore hurried over; chaos had erupted around us. Everyone was screaming. The noise was deafening. It felt as though everything inside me had frozen, trapped in this horrific moment that no one could have anticipated.

Harry fell against me, and I wrapped my arms around him protectively. Dumbledore told him to stay where he was, nodding at me as he turned to address Cedric's father. I pulled Harry closer, wondering what on earth I could say to calm him down. His entire body was shaking violently, and I hugged him closer still. He sobbed uncontrollably into my neck, gripping my arms so hard I was certain there would be bruises. But I didn't care. Something terrible had happened, and I wasn't about to leave Harry's side. I couldn't hold back anymore. I dissolved into tears, my emotions overwhelming me and the frozen feeling from before shattering into a thousand pieces. I was so enraged that the man who murdered my father couldn't be found, so sad that Harry was in so much pain and there was nothing I could do, and so irritated now that a certain ex-Auror and professor was now trying to pry Harry from my grasp.

"Dumbledore said stay," Harry managed with a hiccup. I nodded, unable to speak.

"It's fine, don't worry," Moody said, wrenching Harry free and taking him away.

I was so confused by the rush of emotions I was feeling; it was like I was drowning. I hadn't been so suffocated by emotions since Dad had died, and I felt all the feelings now that I had felt back then: I felt angry, abandoned, and alone. Just when things had started to look up, everything was crumbling down around me.

"Where's Harry?" came an urgent voice in my ear. I looked up to find Dumbledore gazing fiercely down at me.

"Professor Moody took him," I managed to say past my tears.

"Where? Did you see?" he asked, the look in his eye making me feel small.

"No. Why?" I wiped my face dry and focused on the headmaster's words.

Dumbledore turned away from me, seeming to pull Professors McGonagall and Snape out of thin air. "We have to find Harry," Dumbledore said urgently, sweeping toward the castle, the two professors following without question.

"What's wrong?" I said, my voice stronger. I pulled myself to my feet and ran after them, the need to _do_ something in the moment driving me forward.

"Stay there," McGonagall said, but the worried look on her face belayed her words. I sprinted after them all the way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

"Stay outside," Snape said to me as we reached Professor Moody's door.

"No," I shot back. Before Snape could reply, the four of us barreled through the door and into the office; the three professors cried, "_Stupefy!_" together.

I scanned the room. Moody had collapsed in an undignified heap, wand in hand. Harry was standing nearby looking incredibly shaken. He spotted me, and the two of us immediately moved toward each other.

"Are you all right?" I whispered as McGonagall tried to whisk him away to the hospital wing. But Dumbledore stopped her.

"Moody," Harry said, holding onto my arm for support. "How can it have been Moody?"

"This is not Alastor Moody," Dumbledore said, and Harry and I both gave him confused looks. But Dumbledore ignored us and proceeded to give Snape and McGonagall several strange instructions. They strode from the room, clearly unfazed by the oddness of the headmaster's requests.

Harry's legs were shaking. I looped one of his arms over my shoulders and gripped him firmly by the waist as Dumbledore began rummaging through a large trunk in the corner. On the seventh try, Harry let out a cry of amazement.

The trunk's bottom was much further away than it should have been; at the bottom was another Alastor Moody. The real one?

"Polyjuice Potion," I whispered.

"Indeed, Miss Evans," Dumbledore said. And as he spoke, the imposter on the floor began to transform. Seconds later, another man lay still on the floor of the office. I didn't recognize him.

"Crouch" Snape said as he reentered the office, a house elf at his heels. "Barty Crouch!"

"What?" I said, confused.

The house elf at Snape's feet let out a piercing shriek and began sobbing over the man's chest. Meanwhile, Snape handed Dumbledore a vile of clear liquid: the same Veritaserum I had taken at the beginning of the year. Harry seemed to recognize it, too. The three professors crowded around the man, pushing Harry and I back and away from the man on the floor.

Dumbledore placed three drops on the man's tongue, then whispered, "_Ennervate."_

The man called Crouch opened his eyes, and the next twenty minutes proved to be some of the most enlightening of my life.

Crouch droned on about his escape from Azkaban, where he had supposedly died after being sent there for his work as a Death Eater. He spoke of his father's involvement in his escape, and of his use of the Imperius Curse to control his son and prevent him from returning to Voldemort's services. The man smiled as he recalled his time with the Dark wizard he so revered. I felt disgusted by his story, by his devotion to a man who had brought nothing but fear into the world. I gripped Harry more tightly, finding some comfort in holding the boy who had defeated the Dark Lord.

"Tell me about the Quidditch World Cup," Dumbledore ordered. And Crouch spoke, his voice flat. Had I sounded so emotionless while I had been under the influence of the Truth Potion?

"It was carefully planned. My father led me and Winky up to the Top Box early in the day. Winky was to say that she was saving a seat for my father. I was to sit there, invisible. Nobody would ever know. But Winky didn't know that I was growing stronger. I was starting to fight my father's Imperius Curse. It was like waking from a deep sleep. I found myself out in public, in the middle of the match, and I saw, in front of me, a wand sticking out of a boy's pocket. I had not been allowed a wand since before Azkaban. I stole it."

"That was my wand," Harry whispered, wide-eyed. I shot him a surprised look, but Crouch's voice drew me back to his story.

"We heard the Death Eaters. The ones who had never been to Azkaban. The ones who had never suffered for my master. The sound of their voices awoke me. I was angry. I had the wand. I used the Invisibility Cloak. Winky did not notice me leaving. And I went out into the campsite. Everyone was fleeing. I stood there, reveling in the chaos. And that's when I saw him: that man and his daughter. They were running right toward me. And they couldn't see me under the cloak as I conjured my Death Eater mask and placed it over my face. They didn't notice me, until it was too late.

"The man recognized me. I knew he did. And I saw the way he looked at his daughter with fear burning in his eyes. And so I went for the girl."

I staggered against Harry, who planted his feet more sturdily to steady me. Dumbledore and Snape glanced at me, their expressions unreadable.

"I didn't use my new wand just yet. I felt so free, now that I was no longer under my father's curse. I grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the closest tree. I found the girl's wand. I took it. I planned to make it look like it had been the girl's fault. But in the dark, I mistook her wand for the one I already had. I used the wrong wand to Stun the man. I cursed at myself for my own stupidity, thrusting the other wand into my robes.

"I used the girl's wand to torture the man before I killed him. He deserved no less after what he did to me. It felt so good to be free. I turned on the girl, to take her right where I had bound her to the tree. I wanted to strip the innocence from her, destroy the life she should have never had. I could see her future in her eyes: I could see her shrinking away from every lover she'd ever have and think of me. Like when I placed the Imperius curse on that boy at the Yule Ball and made him assault her, I knew I would be the first thing on her mind. I wanted nothing more in that moment at the World Cup than to ruin her. So I took what I desired.

"Then Winky found me, and she bound me to her with her own magic, pulling me away. I barely had time to return the girl's wand."

Snape was staring at me intently as I stood there, unfeeling and paralyzed. Harry was now the one holding our weight as I stared unblinkingly at the man who had torn apart my life. But Crouch seemed oblivious to the tension that had mounted in the room. He droned on about casting the Dark Mark in the sky, about being found by his father, about Voldemort telling him to impersonate Moody here at Hogwarts, about killing his own father, about turning the Triwizard Cup into a portkey and transporting Harry Potter to where Voldemort was hiding…

And when Crouch fell unconscious, much as I had after the strain of Veritaserum, I sagged to the floor. Harry fell to one knee beside me, looking utterly confused. I didn't scream or cry. I just sat there, staring unseeingly into the now-silent office.

"Minerva, could I ask you to stand guard while I take Harry upstairs?" Dumbledore requested softly.

I felt my numbness vanish at his words, as though they had pulled me out of my haze. With a screech that tore at my vocal cords, I launched myself at the unconscious man. I wanted to hurt him, to make him pay for everything he had done to me and my family. I wanted him to suffer like I had. I wanted him to die.

But before I reached him, a strong arm seized my waist, pulling me back. I was shouting, but there were no words. I fought against the arm that was holding me back as I was dragged into the corridor. Dumbledore was speaking, and then he was walking away with Harry, who looked reluctant to leave. When the door to the office shut, I collapsed. My body was shaking uncontrollably, racked with sobs that tore at my lungs. I wasn't screaming anymore, but the pain inside me had doubled since I had heard that evil man's confession.

"Breathe," came a firm voice. There was a hand on my ribs, willing me to remain still as I writhed on the floor. I gripped the person's arm as I fought to regain control of my body. My head was swimming from lack of oxygen, my vision blurred…

After several long minutes of deep breathing interrupted by broken sobs, I began to calm. My eyesight cleared slowly, and I stared down at the hand on my ribs, willing it to come into focus. My breathing settled.

"Samantha?"

I jolted as the familiar voice snapped me back to reality. A glance upward revealed Professor Snape's face much closer to my own than I would have normally preferred.

"Sorry," I muttered, my voice thick and slurred. But I was too drained to feel embarrassment as I let go of the Potions master and tried to right myself. The task proved impossible; Snape helped me to my feet.

"Don't apologize," he said firmly as we began to walk, Snape supporting me as we went.

We walked in silence, hindered by my body's unwillingness to cooperate. But soon enough, we stepped into the hospital wing. Snape guided me over to one of the beds, and I crawled in gratefully. Madam Pomfrey swooped down on me as Snape swept wordlessly away.

"Where's Harry?" Ron and Hermione demanded as soon as Madam Pomfrey moved away from my bedside. I looked down at the goblet she had forced into my hand and recognized the purple Dreamless Sleep Potion. I noticed vaguely a slight difference in the shade of purple from the batch I had made, but I gulped it down nonetheless.

"With Dumbledore," I mumbled, too exhausted to say anything more. I fell back against the pillows and fell immediately asleep.

"They'll wake him if they don't shut up!" someone hissed unkindly, pulling me out of my dreamless sleep sometime later. I opened my eyes, noticing that Harry was now in the bed next to mine. He was surrounded by the redheaded family I had seen him eating dinner with earlier today. It seemed impossible that just hours ago, we had all been fussing about exams…

The Minister of Magic bustled through the door moments later, followed by a furious Professor McGonagall and a deceptively calm Professor Snape. Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, strode right up to Harry's bed, insisting on knowing Dumbledore's whereabouts just as the headmaster himself swept into the ward.

The four adults began a very heated discussion about the Death Eater in Moody's office. Apparently the Minister had entered the castle accompanied by a dementor, who proceeded to administer the Kiss to Barty Crouch Jr. I settled back into my pillows, feeling a mix of contentedness that he had been dealt with, and disappointment that I hadn't been able to harm the man myself. I felt my rage bubble to the surface, but I forced myself to accept that Crouch had been neutralized. It was over; that would have to be enough.

Dumbledore informed the Minister that Voldemort had indeed returned to power just this night, as Crouch had revealed. I could tell the headmaster was deadly serious, and I felt my insides squirm. But to my great surprise, Fudge immediately dismissed the notion; the shaggy black dog bore its teeth angrily.

Harry seemed to share this anger, because he began shouting at the Minister. I had never seen Harry look so angry.

"I saw Voldemort come back! I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy—"

I jolted, as did Snape. We glanced at each other, but looked away quickly. I thought of Draco and how we had met. It felt like lifetimes ago.

"Macnair, Avery, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle—!" Harry continued, causing outbursts from each adult in turn. I watched, speechless, as they continued to shout at one another. The Minister started backing away from them as though they had gone mad. I couldn't believe that he would ignore an eyewitness statement!

"He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be…" the Minister pleaded. But Dumbledore was not the one who responded.

Snape strode forward, past the headmaster, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. I suppressed a moan, realizing what was about to happen. Fudge leapt away as Snape stuck his forearm out for the Minster to see.

"There," he said angrily, explaining how the Dark Mark etched to his skin had burned black just an hour ago and what it meant. He revealed it as a means of communication between Voldemort and his supporters. I stared at it openly, suddenly feeling sad. But clearly Dumbledore knew, because he showed no sign of surprise. This calmed me immensely, knowing that whatever Snape had done in his past, it had stayed in his past, and all that remained was the Potions master I saw before me.

The Minister of Magic marched from the room, but not before he gave Harry his tournament winnings. I glared after him, realizing that everything the other adults had said to him was the truth according to Harry, and it had all been thoroughly proven. But the man had dismissed it all, which left the Wizarding world in a very vulnerable position.

Dumbledore clearly knew that, because he began giving orders to the people who remained in the hospital wing. People started leaving one by one as they were given an instruction to follow. I didn't understand everything Dumbledore was asking of people, but it seemed that everyone understood each other perfectly. I forced myself to find comfort in that.

I sank back into the pillows, exhaustion overtaking my senses yet again; I fell asleep to the sound of Dumbledore's gentle but commanding voice.

"Sam?"

The gentle voice pulled me into waking reality, and I opened my eyes. Terence was leaning over me, looking concerned.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, taking one of my hands in his own.

I glanced around. I was still in the hospital wing. Harry was sleeping peacefully in the next bed, his visitors having left some time in the night.

"Terrible," I said with a small moan as the previous day's events cascaded into my thoughts. Terence's grip on my hand tightened.

"What happened?"

But Madam Pomfrey appeared suddenly, her hands swift as she checked me over. She handed me a Pepper-up Potion, which I accepted gratefully. The hospital wing came into sharper view, my head stopped spinning, and the numbness in my body vanished. Madam Pomfrey turned next to Harry, who was stirring out of his potion-induced sleep.

"Are you all right, Sam?" Harry asked when he saw me lying next to him.

"Same as you, probably," I replied.

"That bad?" Harry said, looking like he wanted to smile but finding himself unable. "You probably don't want to talk about it either, then."

"Not even a little bit."

Harry nodded, gulping down a potion Madam Pomfrey had given him and sitting upright.

"Miss Evans," Pomfrey interjected. "The Headmaster would like to see you in his office immediately."

"Speaking of not wanting to talk about it," I muttered, pulling myself out of the bed. "I'll see you later, Harry."

Terence and I exited the ward and began walking through the corridors up to the seventh floor. The boy was obviously containing himself; I could practically hear his brain whirring beside me, severely contrasting my own, which seemed to have jammed.

I sighed. "Relax, Terence. I'm alive. Let that be enough for now."

Terence swallowed audibly and nodded.

"How did you know I was in the hospital wing?" I asked curiously.

"Professor Snape told me when he came back to the pitch last night. But he said to wait until morning because you needed to rest."

"Oh," I said. "That was…nice of him."

Terence nodded. "I'll see you later, then?" he said as we arrived at Dumbledore's office.

I knocked lightly on the office door, and the expected "Enter" reached my ears. I pushed it open gently, and for the first time in my life, Dumbledore was the only person in the room.

"Have a seat, Miss Evans," Dumbledore said kindly. He looked tired, I noted as I sank wordlessly into one of the chairs in front of his desk. The headmaster leaned forward, a calculating look in his eyes. I felt as though he were looking straight into my soul as his crystal blue eyes examined me. I shifted uncomfortably in the chair.

"You wanted to talk to me about something, sir?" I prompted, hoping dearly that I wouldn't have to say much; all the emotions that had erupted from me last night were threatening to do so again.

"How are you feeling?" he asked after a moment.

I almost groaned. This question again? How was I supposed to answer? He knew bloody well that I was feeling terrible, considering he was one only two people who knew the full story. I clenched my left hand tightly, feeling my fingernails digging painfully into my palms. I was trembling again, and I wanted nothing more in that moment than to smack the kindly twinkle from Dumbledore's eyes for asking such a stupid question.

When I didn't respond, Dumbledore spoke again.

"I'm sure you're feeling—"

"DON'T—" I shouted, jumping to my feet, the numbness I had felt evaporating instantly, "even pretend you know what I'm feeling."

"I meant only that—"

"Just stop! When your father is murdered by a man who raped you and then pretends to be your teacher and mentor for an entire school year, _then_ you can come to me and we'll have a cozy little chat about how disgustingly unfair life is, all right?" I bellowed at the man. Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off swiftly. "No! All this time, and he was _right there!_ In class, at meals, in the corridors! Every day I've been cooped up in _your_ school, and every single one of those days I've been at risk. Every day! How does that make you feel?"

I was shaking, my breathing ragged as I screamed into the man's face. And never once did he flinch.

"He was involved in the case of the man he killed," I went on, forcing my voice to settle; it was still hurting from last night. "He knew everything that was happening. He saw me at my worst and weakest. He saw me struggling every day to come to terms with what had happened. That evil man got to reap the rewards of his actions when he saw how much he had destroyed my life."

My voice was barely a whisper now.

"_That man is a monster,_" I breathed, still shaking.

There was no fight left in me. It was over; there was nothing more I could do.

"As I'm sure you heard last night in the hospital wing, Barty Crouch Jr. has been taken care of," Dumbledore said quietly.

I nodded, sinking back down into the chair.

"He is of no more threat to you and your family."

I nodded again.

"The Aurors have been notified, and your father's case has been filed as solved. The protection detail has been removed from your mother's residence in London."

I nodded, staring down at my feet. Silence fell between us; I felt very young. I looked up at the headmaster, a childish question on the tip of my tongue. I knew the answer before I spoke.

"What was Mother's reaction?" I asked in a small voice.

Dumbledore looked at me over his half-moon spectacles, seeming to read all the thoughts that had preceded the question. I immediately regretted opening my mouth.

"Never mind. I'll just go," I said, pulling myself to my feet. I was halfway to the door when Dumbledore spoke.

"You know, Miss Evans, there's more to life than family. Perhaps it is something you have learned during your stay here after a lifetime of traveling with the same two people; sometimes, it is the family you make for yourself that makes life worth living."

I turned back in the doorway to glance back at the headmaster. He smiled gently.

I nodded. "Thank you, sir."


	15. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Hey Padma, I think these are yours," I said, tossing a pair of socks over to her.

"Oh yeah, thanks!" she said, dropping them into her trunk.

It was painful, packing. I tucked away each item, and with it, a memory, wondering how so much could happen in a single year. The trunk was nearly full now as I placed the last of my belongings inside: my potion-making kit and _The Four Houses_ album. I lay my guitar and Nimbus 2000 on top of all this, missing my broomstick already as I knew Mother wouldn't allow me to do any flying over the summer, and closed my trunk.

The entrance hall was packed with people exchanging farewells to each other before departing for the Hogwarts Express. The corridors echoed with the sounds of laughter and tears as the students swapped contact information with new friends and hugged old friends goodbye.

I remembered Dumbledore's parting words about _the family you make for yourself_ as I said goodbye to the friends I had made. Stewart promised to include some more artwork in his letters, smiling happily when I told him I would hang them in my room. Terence and I agreed to exchange lyrics and music throughout the summer in case Flitwick wanted to continue _The Four Houses_ next year, a task that I hoped would distract me from not being able to fly all summer.

I had never experienced this before, lasting friendship, and I wanted nothing more than for the summer to pass quickly so that I might see my new family again. Hogwarts had become my home, and I wasn't looking forward to staying cooped up in a house with my mother for two whole months.

And then, with much encouragement from the staff, the students began the walk down to Hogsmeade Station. I took one last glance at the castle entrance before following reluctantly, already counting down the days until I would return.

* * *

END

_Author's Note: This ends the first installment of a four-part series. I do plan on carrying this through the end of the original book series, but I do not have a timeline for this project. I appreciate your patience as I work on the rest of the Noire series._


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